Luyện nghe bài hát Mortal Thought (I Must Roc The Mic)

You never will conquer the
You never will the champion
down my selector

Adjust treble right now adjust the bass
Turn it up, frontin'
C'mon, it up
Alright, it out ninety-three lyrics, here we go

I never want a jheri curl up my hat
The woman in my bed has got to be strictly
I never money if my lyrics are wack
So I must, rock, the mic

I play only the reggae and I play rap
I the African, the European, and Jap
Beneath I got to show you I am all that
So I must, rock, the mic

Are you of lyrical liars, passing fliers
Wannabe but really good triers
Tripping over mic cords, you bored
A total fraud, this of thing I can't afford

So I pick up the mic and it ill it top bill it
The cough is a skillet, MC's get fried in it
You got beef chill it, I spill it
seven long years of ripping the party and I'm still widdit
You call my name I think about suing ya
I come to the club that booyaka

Laughing while I'm doin' ya the crowd is ya
one month, record for record on tape I'll ruin ya
Some likkle awl pon sound wanna if rule de city
His style is pretty beats and rhymes are dibby dibby

comes the rootical ratical teacha
I'll eat ya defeat ya beat ya till ya stagger and ya chatter
be goin' through convulsions as I flash data
Any rapper can be a rapper now what's the matter

You're of more junk than a sausage
Let me show you what a hip hop artist

My from the Bronx
My posse the Bronx
My posse from the
My from the Bronx

I never a jheri curl up under my hat
The in my bed has got to be strictly black
I never money if my lyrics are wack
So I must, rock, the mic

I play only the reggae and I only rap
I the African, the European, and Jap
Beneath I got to show you I am all that
So I must, rock, the mic

Of course, yeah I'm the most recording artist in your life
Never to repeat a rhyme style twice, precise
In a lyrical drought like water to your lips oh yes my will suffice
I'm nice, beans and rice, I am delicious

the freshest lyricist on the mic, you don't want to fuck with Kris is
Lyric for lyric rhyme for rhyme style for I break you like dishes
Either you come fully correct or the lyrics you simply makin'
We got no time for fake black leaders and dreamers blowin'

You see a fraud, I mean a fraud in fraudulation
I know what it is, the crown of rhyme supremacy tastin'
And yes, before the flavor your greedy tongue
You get up by KRS-One

Now, lyrics, want lyrics, from the lyrical terrorist
Here's a little somethin for you all to remember
And remember I am no pessimist, more of an optimist
revolutionist, yes the hardest artist
And the smartest, Premier, spark

My from the Bronx
My from the Bronx
My posse the Bronx
My posse the Bronx

I never want a jheri up under my hat
The woman in my bed has got to be black
I never want if my lyrics are wack
So I must, rock, the mic

I play the reggae and I play only rap
I the African, the European, and Jap
Beneath I got to you that I am all that
So I must, rock, the mic