Luyện nghe bài hát La Schmoove

La Schmoove, yo we don't got nuttin to prove Yo, when I was small they to tease me
because my was peasy, hard 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 I'm doin what just had to be done
Now we in there like swimwear, callin me hon
Give me hugs, peck, mucho tongue, lots of sex
Nuff respects to my bros that on five-six street RIGHT
I'm monster mashin boom bashin in a fashion
which is wild now I smile when I whip-lash MC's with my
Call me Cuckoo, I'm makin buku,
I'm geared and fully prepared to tear all MC's are, smuks
For bros who and cavity creep and listen when I talk
as I soothe in the groove, cause I'm like Mr. Rourke
Mr. Wu, no need to be rude, but F.U.
cause I got nuttin to prove

La Schmoove, yo we don't got to prove 'Leave it to Beaver'-arriva, derci
Heavens to ba FU sayanora
adios muchachos dorme vous unbuckle my Fu-Schnick
Mr., Chip Fu, about to shop
With the Judo (CHOP!) a Judo (CHOP!) a Judo CHOP!
Yo, zilch kaput me nada son
I don't think so, so a look at
a big Jimmy the Honeynut Cheerio Bee
ba schnicker bah
I ams what I ams all what I ams
My lyrics are done
I'm the big John Elmer Glue the Elmer the
Al Bundy the Bud Light
Come like tongues lashes, the quickness
Moc and Poc is, my
Ask the Kung about my tongue and the styles that I brung
I'm the Ali Babi cutty rankin
Jaw Boy Wonder dread, BUM BA READ
These lyrics out of mi head, BUM BA READ
Mr. Fu's gon stay' di-di, da-di-di, dra-dread
You I couldn't rap, but I really wrecked shop
and I stop drop, I get props
I up the mic drop a style and pattern and fashion
and all MC's jaws drops
My accent, mockin, my clothes, you're clockin
Rippin to smithereens to their
Long-STOCKINGS
So step to Chip, I'm on the La Schmoove tip
You'll say "Drats I really failed again he sank my Babble-ship"
So oooh, shit G, wa-wa or
Rip it and be specific doin it terrific I kicks it
Chitty-Chitty Bang-Bang, Pepe LePew, LePew
La Schmoove, yo I got NUTTIN to prove!

La Schmoove, yo we got nuttin to prove Now here I go, once again, with the ill flow
Other MC's that rap, their style is
Phife Dawg was never the type that ever lacked
I just stay true to my roots and I get ill
Twenty of age, but yet I still see KNOWLEDGE
And this year, was so-called, my Senior year in
But I chose to pursue, in a field called
And with hype beats and breaks you know I won't refuse it
Get on the lay down the track and I'll do ten laps
Pass the pen, pass the pad, and I'll kick nuff
Just inside your jam and witness who is boss
and it won't be Tony Danza nor Diana
As small as I am, I still can pack
Do a freestyle, and step, but yet I slam
Not to say that no one can get with me
Not only is it the I write, it's my delivery
Name one rapper that you know who has high-strung voice
My name's Malik and I'm unique, in other words top
Nothin commercial bout this, mainly hardcore
Now that you got you want, do you want more?
(UHH!) I got more in store!

La Schmoove, yo we don't got nuttin to prove MC, the One, a.k.a. The Golden Child
I have a grin at times, but then throw up a fake
Vaseline Intensive Care, don't mon frere
'Cept I say, that rappin, G pull his hair
Back in the groove, no way you can handle this
so fly, that you can call it scandalous
Cause I mani-fest in, words that I'm
Unleashin, you now seek the sounds that I'm
I hear NOT see NOT, knots to butts ROCK
I rides to the beginnin, then won't stop
The Chinese Son of Sam, the Skipper's Pan
The rootinest cowboy in the East
Releasin, a new of lyrical lingo
Single, Alarm+, the girls cooties I will tingle
No expiration date, so you know I EXPIRE
No skippin a weekly check, so I don't have to
Write, the ca-pital, M.O.
Chip Fu with the Kung-Fu shouts on my show
Ir-regular is here too
Tripped, boo-boo, you first made a
Not Alexander but considered to be
Great, but, like the Ape
Fake, the moves, and your ankles I break
Break, or broken, the M.O., has
Movements on the slick, takin the train you a token
I guess not, cause you pause for the
You bitin your 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 nuttin to