Luyện nghe bài hát Mr T vs Mr Rogers

[Mr. T]
I pity the who tries to step to Clubber Lang
Call me BA biceps cause I'll crush your whole
Bring Tuesday, Friday and Trolly the train
And watch me dip their ass in
And wear 'em like my chain — SUCKA!
I'll choke you your own sweater sleeves
You couldn't beat me in the land of make believe. PUNK!
I Mr. T bag you, in the closest cemetery
Nobody's gonna miss you cause all your friends

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

[Mr. T]
Who you dumb fool?
Mr T. only one letter
It's for you
Bill Cosby wants his
You're a 40 year old virgin in a dumpy ass
I'll get Hannibal, and Face to stomp you out
The only pussy cat you ever is on Henrietta, SUCKA!
And your Mr. delivers a lot more than letters
So you come to battle with your PBS crap
How I call up CPS about them kids on your lap, FOOL!

Rogers]
Watch what you say. Kids love me than lunch
I'm not the one with my face on some ass Captain Crunch
When my plan comes you won't even see it coming
I'll chop you four black dudes and I'll remake Cool Runnings
I'll say once, Laurence. I hope it's understood
Get right back in your van and get the fuck my neighborhood