Luyện nghe bài hát NYC Street Corner Battle

[thug] I told you fuckin guy man
Yo man, yo B, this is my block, get the fuck off

[Keith] the fuck up
You never had a fuckin card in your fuckin life
You don't any to make fuckin money

[thug] What? What the you talkin bout mayn?

[Keith] You fuckin stupid, plantella motherfucker
[thug] Saturday Night Live, Travolta ass motherfucker
[Keith] my dick
[thug] You fuckin and meatball eatin motherfucker
[Keith] You have any fuckin knowledge
[thug] Fuck you man, conio man, my dick man
[Keith] Little Italy ay, you don't know about the.. real man
[thug] Fuck you man, the fuck you wanna do mayn?
[thug] You wanna do somethin mayn? You wanna do mayn?
[thug] Take this mayn take this mayn {*POP*}
Take this mayn {*POP POP*} dead now!

[Tim
Here we go some new shit, fuck the bullshit
Bronx niggaz rule shit, we always pull quick, what?
Motherfucker back up, you whassup
Put two in gut, POP POP what, now shut 'em up
Mad niggaz wanna have this, status
I'm known as the motherfuckin apparatus
The fattest, MC of the era, terror
Could fuck with this? Never, but however
Many try to apprehend, they can't comprehend
Cause when they step to me they win
I bend, break who fake the funk
wack rappers in the back of my truck
Then eat some rat poison and I some ammonia
Came out bein that gastric
serial killer, you know, as Kujo
Fuck around with Dog and get slammed like a
"Waitin to Exhale" Whitney, you can't get wit me
I see that nigga from Uptown, who bit me
Bitin, never writin, that's not
I'm invitin, all y'all suckers who fightin
So come on, BRING IT ON, your weapon
No it's not rainin but you gettin wettened
Smash your fuckin ass a Savage, I'm Randy
Niggaz don't want no beef cause I keep the tec
Shoot you your head to your toe
You have so many holes in your shit it spells act you know

female MC]
Well I thought you motherfuckers..
Now take a second while I myself into the industry
By smokin lyrical chokin provokin MC
Clear the way for me, unique, delete the
As I defeat the claim to be sweet, by it street
poet and I don't got to have them tactics to turn fake rappers
and addicts, tell the weak hit from my bomb shit
Ooooh! Damn, no stress or contest, the
I on top of them, no doubt about it, I'm unstoppable
Got a train of focus, track I smoke this
Cannabis is nice, six I'm a ruckus
You can't fuck with us, known for it true
Not fakin the funk like bustaz, so you gonna do?
I address, I'm better than
Mo' potent stress, now try to test, nigga!

[Kool
Yeah fuck y'all motherfuckers who y'all whole album
to prove you got skills, this

I'm makin rappers they apples pack up, move they wagons
My like Bruce Lee, MC's walkin into the +Dragon+
My bald head super sharp, I walk Telly Savales
on a tightrope, they style is off balance
Hyper mental like Larry Davis on the
Rappers actin poodle, but I'ma drop the
No threats; don't sleep on me you slept on Bernard
With a twist, your projects heard of this
My unique style retarded, kids the piss
With hand grenades I cut your out with razor blades
please, gorillas bleedin through they knees
My style - AOWWWWWWWWWW!
I howl on elevator, open your door, see you late
I drop of dynamite, open your mailbox
Don't look for guns, I paid some crackheads for yo'
Your style berback(?), lion tiger
No need to worry low prices call me Eddie
I put the head to and send that brain to Betty
I'm outtie.. five thousand