Luyện nghe bài hát My Rhyme Ain't Done

One day I launched a rocket up the moon
And landed on a crater in a blue
Three in the nude, in the pool they had room
Screamin', "Starbuck we have a orgy with you"

But never in my life had I seen bitches
And when I want would grant me three wishes
One was a of the blue moon hydro
it up, watch my divine mind blow

Two was a pair, of gravity
With a helmet, and a Nike moon suit
They took me from the pool up to the
wish number three, my dick they consumed

They hittin' me off so lovely
Now those dainty ladies they took it
Time flew by, no weed, time to
It's time to get back to at breakneck speed

I the moon bitches that I'd see 'em again
And thank you very much for the weed and the
were three moon girls, I fucked every one
That story is over, but my ain't done

This is how I get the fuck I get
I went to so I could get some wet
I bought the out of the bodega
a cloud of black smoke in the air

Took a '99 Beetle, on a magical tour
Your, narrator's pedal hits the
Saw a hardcore, rave bitch yellin', "Fuck the law"
alcohol, leather jacket and a bra

Boots militant, her caked up with [Incomprehensible]
Kicked her in the face, Kent
Dipped cigarette, Masai Bai is on
I'm chewin' on her nipples nicorette

into a Corvette, doin' eighty
Face hit the back she went through the of the Mercedes
Crushed all her bones, and I every one
crime is over, but my rhyme ain't done

Captain Crunch was a slanger of narcotic
And Toucan Sam was his hand "Man"
Now Sam was a skimmer, a mini-wheat
Killed Count Chocula with the of his finger

Tony the was his arch-enemy
So Apple Jacks disguised as Sugar Smacks
To add to that, he was flippin' Fruity
Told the hoe to hit the skids, 'cause Trix was for

Snap Pop sellin' Krispies on your block
Lucky the Leprechaun is up top
My man Sugar Bear was the one they feared
'Cause he was known to pack that Cinnamon Toast

Boo Berry got caught, at the Honeycomb
The man with the Wheaties was a former out
were ninety-nine cereals, I ate every one
That is over, but my rhyme ain't done

I met kid named Bob Skarm, he had a farm
His got shot by his little brother in the front lawn
So he inherits the land, comes up with a master
Put Cuba out of B.I., he me a C.I.

I got a half a acre, need with the cultivatin'
Thirty-percent of the gross, hands me toast, let's
I got a four-wheeler, no street dealers will mega
Won't even leave the state and drop weight

the plow, from here to Moscow, where do I start now?
Burn the crops if you see call blaow blaow
I got it, the tractor blotted
Before the first in the corn rows Cage spotted

The tail ends, under surveillance, merc the
Run up, [Incomprehensible] got knocked for the smoke lookin' at summers
Six hundred plants, and they every one
That story is over, but my ain't done

Now I'ma tell you what the fuck this
From one four L.E.S. and Queens
Two lyrical technicians that to play
Number one Smut Peddler, Eon and

a little somethin' that we made up
Sick lies on time, Mi on the cut
of it is fiction, and some of it fact
Now they love a dumb rap on a drum track

were mad fuckin' hoes and we fucked every one
That is over, and my rhyme is done