Luyện nghe bài hát Microphone Master (41st Side Remix)

I iggity am 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 rappers try to faze me
They be crazy messin' with the Books and Drayzie

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

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

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

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

yo, here's the humdinger
I'm bringin' a new style of thing
a rap singer with a fat flow, so low and behold
I higgity hold his mic piece for ransom, all about expanses
Stocks of skunks, and my pops get a mansion

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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