Luyện nghe bài hát No One's Iller

Yeah,yeah, Bizarre Kid at you
(Bang)
Eminem and Fuzz and Mr.

No one's iller me
(Wha?)
No one, no one's iller me
No one's iller me
It's Mr. Swifty the 313

I make wanna turn into singers
I keep hoes they fingers
Bring this competition and this meanin'
Got your whole doing subpoenas

Hell nah, you seen a crew genius
Murder between us, pack your heaters
Keep it close, you beat us
While your whole treat us like G's, you best believe this

I done made quadrapalegics outta non-rappin' rejects
While the whole world ejects tape, it ain't no secret
your shit sounds fake, you can't stop it my mind state
Makes it too for cops in tryin' to stop the crime rate

I'm Two-Face, I'm painful to rappers then you can tell
From these shells, how I gotta bend 'em like route
I all trails, somethin' farther from gettin' bail
Makes you wanna kill an emcee yourself, you as well

Be within a 25 to life sentence, on trials
Horrified and on frontin', repentin' and lose they bowels
Everything is foul Swift's around, vacate now
Niggas enough to try to front and escape, how?

I'm gonna take this 'gnac and drink it wild
Niggas steady fallin' in my face like crates
It's from the 313
Like I said no one is iller me

Me and Eminem and Mike, drivin' Van Dyke
Get my sucked late at night by a fuckin' transvestite
Still on for stranglin' my boy Jason
Should be takin' my medication, 9 to 10, I'm facin'

Last week this old man I had to
'Cuz he tried to me out when my car was out of gas
Ripped this old lady, her neck by a hook
Didn't realize it was my grandmother 'til I checked her

Fuckin' the white boys got me back on crack
Better explain the hell your TVs and VCRs is at
I done lost 100 pounds, I ain't been eatin' like I
This wounded dog in the is sure lookin' good

Rob this little boy in his fuckin' paper
bottles at day care centers and yell, "Everybody get out"
My girl beat my ass and shot me in the back a 2-piece
she found out I was havin' an affair with her 10-year old niece

No one, no one's than me
It's Bizarre Kid straight the 313
No one, no one's iller me
It's Kid straight from the 313

Nobody test me 'cuz I don't wanna get messy
Especially when I inside this bitch, dick freshly
New Lugz, the crew hugs, guzzle two mugs
Before I do drugs that make me throw up like flu

thugs, rugged unshaven messy scrubs
Whippin' 40-bottles the fuckin' Pepsi clubs
a fifth, crack open a six
I'm on my seventh 8-ball, now, I gotta a piss

I'm at these hoes that got boyfriends
Who a fuck who they was
I'm always takin' else's girl like Cool J does
probably don't be packin' anyways, do they Fuzz?
We walked up, stomped they asses and they buzz

get sandblasted, stab your abdomen
With a hand crafted pocketknife and spill antacid
Sprayed your motherfuckin' crib up I ran past it
Fuckin' felon, headed to in a hand basket

Talkin' shit will get you, your and your man blasted
and slapped in a van wrapped in Saran plastic
Get damn ass kicked, by these fantastic
Furious four
Flashin' in front of your face without the Grand

Slim Shady, ain't nobody iller me

I run shit like an ass with
Massive lead to leave your red
to your ass in a casket dead
Drastic of acid heads

Come to abort you like a egg
trash you said got you standin' on plastic legs
Ask the from past the edge
the most classic threads

Flashin' bread, roll down the
Bitch, you got some legs
You can get that ass get red
You can get 'til ass get red

Bizarre, you get him and him, you get him and him
I'll get him and him, leave the other two for my Eminem
writer's block, I block writers
My block's tighter, up and get your top fighters

Got fired for jumpin' the with a mop stick
Some ran up screamin', "Get the cops, quick"
And got kicked, now she screamin', "Stop it"
Got clips to stop shit, rock and grab this hot shit

you shop, bitch, Fuzz Scooter '97 crop pick
Sick, niggaz lookin' at me like I got tits
I shoot a through your optic
You still don't know the top pick?

I got bricks, my foot in your ass
And have you shittin' socks,
We shit, leave your fuckin' knot split
Grab the green from Al by him hot grits
(No one)

Ain't nobody than me

the Mr. Fuzzy from the 313
No one, no iller than me
It's and Swift from the 313
No one, no one's iller me
It's and Buzz-arre from the 313

You have now 4 ill emcees
From the home of and trash
We'll lyrically