Luyện nghe bài hát La Schmoove

La Schmoove, yo we don't got nuttin to Yo, when I was small they used to tease me
because my hair was peasy, and greasy
But now I'm livin well like and Wheezy
So (WHAT?) does it (YO!)
Is it, because I'm, - beats, beats, beats
Fu-Manchu'n cause I'm doin what just had to be
Now we in like swimwear, girls callin me hon
Give me hugs, little peck, mucho tongue, of sex
Nuff respects to my bros that live on five-six RIGHT
I'm smashin monster mashin boom bashin in a
which is wild now I smile I whip-lash MC's with my style
me Cuckoo, I'm makin buku, bucks
I'm geared and fully to tear all MC's that are, smuks
For bros who sleep and cavity creep and listen I talk
as I soothe in the groove, cause I'm like Mr. Rourke
Doobely-zoo Mr. Wu, no to be rude, but F.U.
cause I ain't got nuttin to

La Schmoove, yo we got nuttin to prove 'Leave it to Beaver'-arriva, derci
to mercy ba FU sayanora
adios muchachos vous unbuckle my Fu-Schnick shoe
Mr., Fu, about to wreck shop
With the Judo (CHOP!) a (CHOP!) a Judo chop CHOP!
Yo, kaput me nada none son
I think so, so take a look at
a Superfly big Jimmy the Honeynut Bee
ba bah snchnucker
I ams what I ams all what I ams
My lyrics are done
I'm the big John Elmer the Elmer the Fudd
Al Bundy the Bud stud
Come like tongues lashes, with the
Moc and Poc is, my
Ask the Kung my tongue and the styles that I brung instead
I'm the Ali Babi cutty rankin
Jaw Boy Wonder Bread dread, BUM BA
These lyrics out of mi head, BUM BA READ
Mr. Chip Fu's gon di-di, da-di-di, dra-dread
You said I couldn't rap, but I really wrecked
and I don't drop, I get props
I up the mic drop a style and pattern and fashion
and all MC's jaws down
My accent, mockin, my clothes, you're clockin
Rippin to smithereens to their
ribbidy-diddiby-Pippi
So don't step to Chip, I'm on the La tip
say "Drats I really failed again plus he sank my Babble-ship"
So oooh, shit G, or biscuit?
Rip it and be specific doin it terrific I kicks it
Chitty-Chitty Bang-Bang, Pepe LePew, Pepe
La Schmoove, yo I ain't got to prove!

La Schmoove, yo we don't got to prove Now here I go, once again, with the ill flow
Other MC's that rap, their is so-so
Phife Dawg was the type that ever lacked skills
I just stay true to my and then I get ill
Twenty years of age, but yet I still see
And this year, was so-called, my Senior in COLLEGE
But I to pursue, in a field called music
And with some hype and breaks you know I won't refuse it
Get on the board lay down the track and do ten laps
Pass the pen, pass the pad, and I'll kick nuff
Just come your jam and witness who is boss
and it won't be Tony Danza nor Diana
As small as I am, I can pack jams
Do a freestyle, and step, but yet I slam
Not tryin to say that no one can get me
Not only is it the I write, it's my delivery
one rapper that you know who has this high-strung voice
My name's and I'm unique, in other words top choice
Nothin commercial this, it's mainly hardcore
Now that you got what you want, do you more?
(UHH!) I got more in store!

La Schmoove, yo we got nuttin to prove MC, the Shining One, a.k.a. The Golden Child
I a grin at times, but then throw up a fake smile
Vaseline Care, don't fear mon frere
'Cept I say, everybody that rappin, G pull his
Back in the groove, no way you can handle this
Shit so fly, that you can it scandalous
Cause I mani-fest in, words I'm preachin
Unleashin, you now seek the that I'm teachin
I NOT see NOT, knots to makes butts ROCK
I rides rhythm to the beginnin, won't stop
The Chinese Son of Sam, the Peter Pan
The tootinest cowboy in the East
Releasin, a new type of lingo
Single, +The Alarm+, the cooties I will tingle
No expiration date, so you know I EXPIRE
No skippin a weekly check, so I have to RETIRE
Write, the ca-pital, M.O.
Chip Fu with the Kung-Fu shouts on my show
Ir-regular styles is too
Tripped, boo-boo, you first made a
Not Alexander but considered to be
Great, but, the Grape Ape
Fake, the moves, and your ankles I break
Break, or broken, the M.O., has
Movements on the slick, takin the you need a token
I guess not, cause you pause for the
You either bitin nails, or start pickin straws
Holy Mick I'm large just like trunk jewels
Nuff to many minds, Ah-OWWWWWWWWWWWEE!

La Schmoove, yo we don't got to prove