Luyện nghe bài hát My Rhyme Ain't Done

One day I launched a rocket up the moon
And on a crater in a blue lagoon
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 I want they would grant me three wishes
One was a pound of the blue hydro
Twistin' it up, watch my divine mind

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

They me off orally so lovely
Now those ladies they took it easily
Time flew by, no weed, to leave
It's time to get back to Earth at breakneck

I the moon bitches that I'd see 'em again
And thank you very much for the weed and the
They were three girls, I fucked every one
That story is over, but my rhyme done

This is how I get where the I get
I to Harlem so I could get some wet
I bought the dutch out of the
Left a cloud of smoke in the air

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

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

Crashed into a Corvette, eighty
Face hit the back she went the glass of the Mercedes
Crushed all her bones, and I every one
That crime is over, but my rhyme done

Crunch was a slanger of narcotic cereals
And Sam was his right hand "Man"
Now Sam was a skimmer, a mini-wheat
Killed Chocula with the snap of his finger

the Tiger was his arch-enemy
So anthrax Apple Jacks disguised as Smacks
To add to that, he was flippin' Pebbles
Told the hoe to hit the skids, Trix was for kids

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

Boo Berry got caught, at the Honeycomb
The man with the Wheaties was a wide out
There were ninety-nine cereals, I ate one
story 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 a master plan
Put out of B.I., he hands me a C.I.

I got a a acre, need help with the cultivatin'
Thirty-percent of the gross, hands me toast, let's
I got a four-wheeler, no street dealers will Cage
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 cops call blaow
I got it, the tractor blotted
Before the first harvest in the rows Cage spotted

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

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

Just a little somethin' we made up
lies on time, Mighty Mi on the cut
Some of it is fiction, and some of it
Now they love a dumb rap on a heavy track

They were mad hoes and we fucked every one
That story is over, and my is done