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 I'll crush your whole gang
Bring Tuesday, Friday and Trolly the train
And watch me dip their ass in
And wear 'em my neck chain — SUCKA!
choke you with your own sweater sleeves
You couldn't even beat me in the of make believe. PUNK!
I Mr. T bag you, in the closest cemetery
Nobody's gonna you cause all your friends imaginary

[Mister
Hi there
I hope you don't mind if I change my
I'll be rocking sneakers 'till this over
So I don't get from your ugly face on my penny loafers
I like you just the way you are, one in a million, but it looks like the barber your 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 full of children I can
You call yourself 'T' cause you're too dumb to

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

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