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

La Schmoove, yo we don't got nuttin to prove 'Leave it to Beaver'-arriva,
Heavens to mercy ba FU
adios muchachos dorme vous unbuckle my shoe
Mr., Chip Fu, to wreck shop
the Judo (CHOP!) a Judo (CHOP!) a Judo chop CHOP!
Yo, zilch kaput me none son
I don't so, so take 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 never
I'm the big John Elmer Glue the Elmer the
Al Bundy the Bud Light
Come like lashes, with the quickness
Moc and Poc is, my
Ask the Kung about my tongue and the styles I brung instead
I'm the Ali Babi cutty shuba-dib-da-dabble
Jaw Boy Wonder dread, BUM BA READ
These ah-come out of mi head, BUM BA READ
Mr. Chip gon stay' di-di, da-di-di, dra-dread
You said I couldn't rap, but I wrecked shop
and I stop drop, I get props
I up the mic drop a style and pattern and fashion
and all MC's drops down
My accent, you're mockin, my clothes, you're
MC's to smithereens to their
ribbidy-diddiby-Pippi
So don't to Chip, I'm on the La Schmoove tip
You'll say "Drats I really failed again plus he my Babble-ship"
So oooh, G, wa-wa or biscuit?
Rip it and be specific doin it when I kicks it
Bang-Bang, Pepe LePew, Pepe LePew
La Schmoove, yo I ain't got to prove!

La Schmoove, yo we don't got nuttin to prove Now here I go, again, with the ill flow
MC's that rap, their style is so-so
Phife Dawg was never the type that ever lacked
I just stay to my roots and then I get ill
Twenty years of age, but yet I still see
And year, was so-called, my Senior year in COLLEGE
But I chose to pursue, in a field called
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 nuff RAPS
come inside 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 to say that no one can get with me
Not only is it the lyrics I write, it's my
Name one rapper that you who has this high-strung voice
My name's Malik and I'm unique, in other words top
Nothin bout this, it's mainly hardcore
Now that you got what you want, do you want
(UHH!) Because I got 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 his hair
Back in the groove, it's no way you can handle
Shit so fly, you can call it scandalous
Cause I mani-fest in, that I'm preachin
Unleashin, you now seek the sounds I'm teachin
I hear NOT see NOT, knots to makes ROCK
I rides rhythm to the beginnin, then won't
The Chinese Son of Sam, the Peter Pan
The rootinest tootinest cowboy in the
Releasin, a new type of lyrical
Single, +The Alarm+, the girls cooties I tingle
No date, so you know I won't EXPIRE
No skippin a check, so I don't have to RETIRE
Write, the ca-pital, M.O.
Chip Fu with the Kung-Fu givin on my show
Ir-regular is here too
Tripped, boo-boo, you first a mistake
Not Alexander but to be Great
Great, but, the Grape Ape
Fake, the moves, and ankles I will 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 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