Luyện nghe bài hát Live From the D.J. Stretch Armstrong Show

*after 2 minutes of

Yo so get the mic burned, open it up

Thought]
Yes I, it out
It's like, you listen to the
Umbilicle mic, my strikes ya vision
I take you a tunnel of thought, wit no support
Now you got off guard, by the number one scar for the Illa-Fifth
Lyrically for this, Black Thought yo the skill assisted
By the Mal-ik B, the symbol you remember me to be valid
Disasterous, the master just bust this, for the
Black Thought yo, I exhibit the
Styles, the artist, boast strokes of lyrical darkness, enter the style
Severin rooms like apartments, ill flavor
I'm a skyscraper by
Down wit my number one neighbor,
>From the of Illinois, you destroy when we bombin, what?
Off the top-a, the dome don-datta Mr. Trotter
Aiyyo we gotta lotta MC's, on the of this ready to rhyme
So I'm just set go down wit mine, rewind, check it out

I persue sound fairs, like Dru Down's hair
Other niggas rhymes are like signs, I throw down theirs
On Knotts I Landed, players get played Hamlet
Supposedly nice, taken for granted life
I twice and drop singles in record pools
Niggas I'm dunkin like when mingle, fuck hip hop jingles
Rhymin big words and not shit
The click that you came in wit, the accent you whipped
I got my nigga Tariq, I it in the middle of the week
Niggas is weak an' and I to speakin
start to leakin, my nigga Derek D an'
I'm foreseein the future, funky for beings
Like I was the Biz Mark, I bring the noise
Com be the rhyme killer, I spill a
bit of juice to a MC who need a new producer
Got my Y-Not in the spot and I rock like crack
I'm ready to attack, is Black
understand the intelligence and relevance to this rhyme
I Stretch a nigga all the line like I was Bobbito or Armstrong
song'll keep goin, I start the holdin
My flowin is turnin to
The birth is through, listenin to cut old school *laughin*
when it came down the shoot?

[Pharoahe
(Pharoahe) Yeah yeah (Pharoahe) yeah
(Pharoahe) yeah yo
Always beginnin em, forever blendin them, bendin em again and
Sendin em back, lettin em know minimum wages
Subliminally befriending em for criminal
Mics I like Florida State Seminoles wit criminal facts
And milly ac-tually I piss on promotional wax
It'll be tight but only this, nigga swears he's the nicest
Just he got rhyme of the month twice
mic devices, the gem star blade the shit slices
Rip-trip-chop-chop-chop and dices,
uh, Absolute uh, Absolute uh (kill it)

Yes, the microphone
My will enlight your dome
When I'm to strike your home just like Capone
N-Noreaga, wit The War Report, my orrator will slaughter
Still waitin for the beat to in, I'm dangerous like Satan
Eatin bacon in front of a Muslim, I'll you and your cousin
It's the beef for attack
When I, yes to subtract the wack
When I go from track to track, in the mounds and coutin
Flowin like water from a when I deliver
Like from a river makin you shiver
That's for sore, the connoisseur rippin
Yes, but I'm to get deeper
You'll catch a ill reflection from listenin too to the speaker
When I reach ya, it's gettin clearer, outta the era

Thought]
It's like this, we you open like a parachute
Took a shot of hip hop, Absolute
For my man from the House of
And turn it out, aiyyo I always do, that's what I'ma ta
Do I show you a and throw you?
For all competitors, Thought comin through the seckle 'cause
I'm the superior and you inferior
Let me adjust my voice so you can me ta--
Bust the, microphone
Pure skills, but it, all of a sudden
MC's start to studdered from the rap style
Hey yo let me check it out, check it out
Well the, deranged style that change formats and forms
I swarm killa bees for feelin these fantasies
MC's throw a tantrum, I sing the Anthem
Aiyyo it's like this, my song your preference
You can never attempt to that where my level is
Thought severin competitives, off the dome top
Yo my microphone stop, my man Com drop

And don't halt, I guess it was my
I came thick like a malt, niggas tried to pour salt
But never knew the flavor, my shit is from Chicago
Niggas follow, hold the bottle
My shit'll keep
Now I'm this poetry in motion like a picure
the scripture, understood the first New Testament
Start to it
The shit is like this, where the beat
I MC's the silent treatment
They tried to come against me, I told em they fresh
Rappers I Crush, Kill and Destroy like
Agenda, Com Sense'll just send a-nother
Mothafucker to the bathroom, he didn't room to shit on the mic
That I had, like the nigga Com Sense, I don't need a pad
Off the dome, my shit'll roam/Rome a Greek
I start to speak, and niggas sound extra
Like seven days, I take ya seven days like Tony
been a phony, Express styles like a Pony
Hold ya horses, Com Sense read The
Toss this type of shit that go straight through, I lost
One time, it back the rap sunshine
follow me like one time
Check it out my man Absolute is unsigned, ready to get it on
It's like this upon the mic yo I sit

Monch]
Yo yo, check it out now, one time now, Pharoahe yo
not breaks at the bar, even if you a star
Wit me and my crew doll you won't go far
I seek the of Allah, the laws I lay
Peepin the echelon of light display
Funk distributed rap pro, to facts so
Cleverly put, more revolutions a axel
The sad nigga much smoother than Coltrane
Who can cop that I chop like cocaine
The effortless action wit moves subtraction
Lip, stick and wit mo' satisfaction
And all the my beats can pile up
More than X-File shows all added up
The educated nigga Queens, by any means
Servin any fiends, similar to Supreme
But like steam I will to the top to redeem the cream
For niggas who for hip hop
I pop glock and bla-block shot and spots
top notch cops to bust from a crotch
Positioning, what Absolute, what c'mon kick the dome

The last word was precision so I get a
And makin sentences on top of cranium
Underground,
the Mediterranean, water to slaughter MC's
Who can't catch the border
across, the window, not a nympho
Lookin at my man, the duck when the lead fly
My man just took a picture, so I just it
Lookin at the man who got the joint in his back shit, the back
I pack shit but never like an automatic
I'm causin static like the opposite of Bounce
I get, throwing mad
at my man Bobbito and Stretch
I catch the beat
I'm come off weak 'cause weak is the opposite of strong
I used to smoke the bong but now I got the
It's my to rhyme again
Don't to be greedy, I give my old gear to the needy
to write graffiti 'cause I got the burner
You might not get that but you I it back to my man wit the head wrap
Yo

*talking and shoutouts to