Luyện nghe bài hát Mr T vs Mr Rogers

[Mr. T]
I pity the fool who tries to step to Lang
Call me BA biceps cause crush your whole gang
Bring Tuesday, Friday and little the train
And watch me dip their ass in
And wear 'em like my neck — SUCKA!
I'll choke you with your own sweater
You couldn't even beat me in the land of believe. PUNK!
I will Mr. T bag you, in the closest
gonna miss you cause all your friends imaginary

[Mister
Hi neighbor
I you don't mind if I change my shoes
be rocking sneakers 'till this battle's over
So I don't get blood from your ugly face on my penny
I like you just the way you are, one in a million, but it looks like the barber gave head a brazilian
I pity neck, Mr. Gold chains, you've got too many
The gold I keep is on the shelf in my Emmys
I teach the whole world of children I can tell
You call yourself 'T' cause too dumb to spell

[Mr. T]
Who you calling dumb
Mr T. needs one letter
It's for you
Bill wants his sweater
a 40 year old virgin in a dumpy ass house
I'll get Hannibal, Murdoch and to stomp you out
The only pussy cat you seen is on Henrietta, SUCKA!
And your Mr. McFeely a lot more than letters
So before you come to battle your PBS crap
How bout I up CPS about them kids on your lap, FOOL!

[Mister
Watch what you say. Kids love me more than
I'm not the one with my face on some whack ass Crunch
When my plan comes you won't even see it coming
I'll chop you into four black dudes and I'll remake Cool
I'll say this once, Laurence. I hope it's
Get right back in your van and get the fuck outta my