Luyện nghe bài hát Jackin' for Beats '99

* several different beats are used in this
Like ice "jacking for beats"

(jigga my nigga-jay-z)

What's my muthafuckin'

And who I'm wit
All my
Uh uh uh labels get it right
Rappers better that beat fool
Clik clik you been now
You didn't know sticky on ya track now
said you number 1 in the streets
That's why I'm coming for you first jackin' your
I took ya beat and rearranged it on some dumb
Got robbed on the radio broad day
The thugs loved it not a game
Went solo on that ass but still the same

(holla rule)
robba robba
Jackin' beats and make 'em hotta hotta
Stealin' all ya spins plus ya dollas
Killas if you feel me just folla (what, come on)
Take it to the streets hold ya and bust the heat
Even if off your plate I gots to eat
I'm on bullshit for no apparent reason
I want it wit y'all I'm ready to die

(hate me now-nas)
It's the I rob
The beats that I
The labels I
For 30 grand you perform at the wake
Touch ya life and everything I touch I
Hate me now 'cause gon be too late
I you
Everything I spit is
I'm the illest killa they signed to universal
F the
I'm God son
As soon as they bet ya bottom dolla i'ma rob 'em

(how to cent)
My fingaz turn fists across ya jaw
ya ass in real life at the source awards
The real from brooklyn God bless he got outed
You just a fake who front and rout about it
I got a new
For a few mil
Shoot to
You fruity dru hill
You change you ain't even half a man 'cause
Matter of fact you ain't half the man ya moms was

(ha-juvenile)
Oh you you was safe, ha
Though you escape, ha
we label mates, ha
Oh you I wouldn't get yo cake, ha
You thought that beat from the dirty south gon get raped, ha
And birds wanna sticky baby, ha
run around stayin' sticky crazy, ha
He got no type of sense, ha
No tellin' I do
Might even jack my own

(throw ya gunz-onyx)
The take 'em out bring 'em out dead
Comin' at me wrong kid I put thing to ya head
Sticky going for self call the cops
Don't even talk to me about the onyx shit you'll get

(play cease)
5 o'clock in the killas at ya door
Colt 4-4 I'm puttin' chalk on your
Find you up the block from ya house in the store
Work the beat like pigeons and I'm 'em all
Press ya luck and you'll
Neva nothing this raw
I'm what the been waitin' for
Wait no
This wack shit can't take no
been banned the streets should've made it a law

(what ya want-eve)
I'm for war
ya niggas want (what, what, what, bring it)
Can't
All y'all niggas sweet even rob swizz
producers gettin' 50 g's
Jack beat kid I did my track for free
Jerk you for ya pub I payin' a fee
I loop it up on the mpc

(the party is on over here-busta rhymes)
as you live neva seen nothing this while
Took ya beat and flipped it in my style
payin' back niggas be bitin' my style
And if dead in the crowd I put some life in the crowd
gift to the underground
Running 'em
'em down
Empires be tumblin'
The end of the world is around
ya ass in the ground
Nothing to
Changing the
Playin' for
I'ma shark in the it ain't safe in the streets
Sticky and I'm jackin' for beats