Luyện nghe bài hát Mystikal 13 Years

19 7, bitch what's happenin?

Thirteen years!
I know what to do to knock your ass out
bastard you no challenge.
Thirteen years!
This ain't no fluke, this deep talent.
muthafuckin years!
I know to do to knock your stupid ass out
bastard you no challenge.
muthafuckin years!
1]
Ahhh Beware, of the microphone I'm
I'll keep rappin until I hoarse or
Thirteen and rollin
Bringin the to the CONUS
Gettin part of this, niggas don't no more of this
Never leave you in your life, nigga I'm selectin and sellin rhymes
Slap a nigga in his mouth thinkin his style sound some like
Mad you screamin "It AIN'T!"
(This whispered, can't hear)
You be pissin me off the time, take you down one at a time
be known for fuckin over your whole album
Who my rhyme?
Keep decling, I'ma climbing
Keep duckin, keep findin
heat seekin rhymes comin to get you bitches off me
Disrespect is costly, that muthafucka like coffee, Hard to break, if it comes that way
It took me thirteen muthafuckin years just to make a tape
But that don't that my rhymes one of the strongest
All man I been trying to it for the fuckin longest
Fuck the signing bonus, as you done it
When I done it, gettin bout to run this bitch
them riders down with me, clown with me
Leave thirteen in your muthafuckin chest and you can em

2]
Nigga go pass the vibe, dividin mad year
catastrophy, leave MCs in closed caskets
Hit ya like full metal jackets, cut like
Tight as ratchets, and burn like
than amino acids, flip like gymnastics, nasty as a pissy mattress
Droppin like the in December
Shimber me timbers, I been writin raps as far as I can remember
Fulla them rocks, everybody key
It was ghetto Djs and MCs
Handle your buisness in this industry of
Or be at F.W. Wolworth washin
I was born to write million dollar rhymes
Battle in the hallways of back in 85
86, 87, 88, up with Big Boy records and made my first demo tape
We dropped some real in the basement
I had big ol' tracks, raps like pavement
To come from New Orleans it hard to surface
That's I got discouraged and joined the service
off! and I before long
I went to war and federal time before I made it back home
No more rips in my jeans and gettin my
Ain't shit unlucky my number thirteen

3]
I hit the bitch BOOM! Owwwwww!
gon bounce throw in the towel before I foul
How in the you like me right now
Told your ass year I'd be on top of the pile
Cause my rap style is my
I shot up like Muslims
We flex like
Use a, pretty delievery it's most important
I form a style that cut thru the frozen artic, I came from my welps, gave up my belt
I got off Big Boy records to put my single on the shelf, now
Do I do it? Fuckin I did it
Shoulda seen the little chir'en in the street singin I'm Not Nigga
Size nothin nigga, I'm short
nigga, raah!
They gave me five hundred dollars, I quit both of my jobs
Fuck em, got other shit to do from nine to five
My birthday came, and my died
But next year, Mystikal signed a half a dollar deal with Jive
This shit thats tragic can't be no
of my rings I work at A&P no more
I my landcruiser off the show floor
Got the Bondaville sittin on Momo's
with scheme, up in my dream
Who'd a ever thought I'd be a No soldier
by the end of thirteen
mammy muthfuckin years!