Luyện nghe bài hát Microphone Master

I am what I am, I comes to get biz so bust the jam
I might not be the man but y'all I still to slam, I cram
to understand why these rappers try to me
must be crazy messin' with the Books and Drayzie

Big-up to Jersey and my out in EL-A
Well-a can never cut the swell-a
'Cos you can tell I gets biz like
No matter the weather son you never wanna spark me

I'm kickin' rhymes and gettin' mines on the
See me in the black Benz blowin' up the cellular
We as shit, the sky is it?
You know the style yo is fly as shit
So grip, you're cheap and buried cos you're never comin' it
(What?)

So fear it you hear it, cheer it but don't compare it
I be schoolin', foolin' 'em when I'm speakin'
be heapin', they love the way that we be freakin'
My sewer it 'cause disaster so when I ask
You better answer who's the master

Miggity microphone master, super maker
Miggity master, super rhyme maker
Miggity microphone master, super maker
Miggity microphone master, super rhyme

Well yo, the humdinger
I'm briggity bringin' a new of thing
It's a rap singer with a fat flow, so low and
I higgity hold his mic for ransom, it's all about expanses
Stocks of skunks, props and my pops get a

By the age of 16, had dreams of big
Mad rubbers to keep my clean
Chrome tools in rent and I only go to buy jewels and tints
Jaboll, Guess, ol' and sess

I check the mic 2-1 and gum to ease the breath
My style is wild the Cats of Villanova
The on the street'll keep my 40's spillin' over
So the and Thai keep me high when I'm smokin'

And I don't sleep, just naps with one eye open
See I believe the weed in me is feedin' me
The inspiration to riggity the nation
white folk to Haitian, [unverified] Jamaican

Burn MCs like degrees of Mason you're fakin'
I'm on point, exclamation with the
The flavor misbehaver the super duper rhyme maker

Miggity microphone master, super maker
Miggity microphone master, rhyme maker
Miggity master, super rhyme maker
Miggity microphone master, rhyme maker

I got to give a shout to my mans, my fans at the shows
Friends, foes, stiggity and hoes
Drats, I'm to ride the fat, ooh shit
My crew is shake, rattle and roll

Thicker than your blunt 'cos yo I be's the trooper
And I got more spunk than that punk from Punky
Bust the lingo Ringo Starr bingo
I run shit like Kunta, bones like Mandingo

I'm starstruck starbuck, the bad bro is mad though
I'm all that small cat like or Hasbo
I have no figgity fear yeah, me and mines
Masters of the microphone, makers of the rhymes

Yo, yo the shit sound clever
I'm clown for whatever nuttin' nice
Big-up to DJ Dice wreckin' when he cut 'n' slice
These 20 MCs, please, I never of some
We need to murder like Colin Ferguson

But now ya us from the under so feel the thunder
Ya best to come clean J-Rule and 'Felix Sunder'
I'm buggin' gristle, see I suggest you

you, my style's official and that's the issue
I show the flow I go until it's time to
I'm packin 'more rhymes up my sleeve

Miggity microphone master, super rhyme
Miggity microphone master, super rhyme
Miggity microphone master, rhyme maker
Miggity microphone master, super rhyme

microphone master, super rhyme maker
Miggity microphone master, super maker
Miggity microphone master, rhyme maker
microphone master, super rhyme maker

Miggity master, super rhyme maker
Miggity microphone master, super rhyme
Miggity microphone master, super maker
Miggity microphone master, rhyme maker
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