Luyện nghe bài hát Laying Blame

Verse One -
I gave birth to half styles, you should pay me rhyme support,
Like Billy Jean suing Jackson for child support,
Rhyme is thought, is it? Lethal, Damn you'll get hurt,
Cos I XL the tag on my shirt,
I'll have these rappers easing back, rhyme a swagger,
your girl aphrodisiacs and hide your viagra,
If pain was diabetes, rhyme be my insulin,
I'm out the insolent in an instant when
bring the rhyme; I'll battle if you wanna tussle,
A single line can turn that fatty matter muscle,
You stagnate, while my rhymes circulate rumours,
Your living that god has a sense of humour,
I'm made from the cream that came from the crop,
move the mountain to Mohammed scream my name from the top,
And proclaim what I got, boy, so me headroom,
These clubs are full of more than spoilt kids bedrooms,
When I'm on stage I lose my breath,
Cos I got so heart that there's no room in my chest,
Left for lungs, yes the yet
To come, my like a hand around your neck,
Constricting your like snakebites and beestings,
I'm all up in these faces like G-Strings,
I the world for opposition but I fear the
competition I found was in a mirror.

Verse Two -
When Pressure steps to the batters you salivate, known to captivate,
I have to new barriers like when a chaste nun masturbates,
If one more critic asks me I do, I'll slap them mate,
And tell them I'm a rapper as I strap her up in tape,
Loudmouths me wanna flip,
MCs only dream they got a grip, and wake up with their hand on dick,
Honest, if ride the nuts I tell the get off me,
Cos I'm unstable like a cradle bridge, so don't me,
I'm highly explosive; you're a playing with matches,
I break rappers you hairline fractures,
These actors keep it real? really wak it's fact,
You spit while I spit the finest chapters,
Perhaps it's to retire the mic,
Like the Bulls have done son, cos no-one wants to be like,
That anymore, cos you're taken on a fantasy tour,
Of coke, guns and gold when actually poor,
flawed, yet entertaining,
I it how far we're willing to go to satisfy a craving,
Make them their tongues like epileptics,
Then respect it, I come clean as if my lube was antiseptic,
So blow me, you still rhyme fresh,
I'm on a higher level of divineness, so me your highness,
There's only three that are certain in life,
Death, taxes and Hood working the mic.