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

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

Adjust that treble right now adjust the
Turn it up, stop
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 want money if my are wack
So I must, rock, the mic

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

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

So I pick up the mic and kill it ill it top it
The cough is a skillet, where MC's get in it
You got beef chill it, blood I it
After seven long years of ripping the and I'm still widdit
You call my I don't think about suing ya
I to the club with that booyaka

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

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

You're full of more junk than a
Let me show you what a real hip hop

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

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

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

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

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

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

Now, lyrics, somebody want lyrics, the lyrical terrorist
a little somethin for you all to remember Kris
And remember this I am no pessimist, of an optimist
Activist revolutionist, yes the hardest
And the smartest, Premier, spark

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

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

I only the reggae and I play 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