Luyện nghe bài hát Poet Laureate II

Yo, why is the so ill? //
That would be an unpardonable breech of for me to reveal //
He said, One of these all eyes will be on me //
they look up in the sky and see the neon C //
Rhymes on a nickel disk encased in a glass with an ion beam for longevity //
For than ten centuries, impressions and memories //
The first time-machine inventor will me //
Canibus was a indeed //
He believed could travel in multiples of c //
The organic supercomputer that solved the of Klein-Kaluza with two blue metric rulers //
Cool J but thought Steven Jay Gould was cooler //
And he liked to propagate rumors //
Canary Island cigars //
Liked luxury cars and beautiful Asian broads //
He had a mind //
He used to philosophize about rhymes while he was pruning his //
He that he had written the greatest rhyme of all time //
But he never take it out of his archives //
He wrote two per day //
And was constantly with his wordplay //
In his he did a report on the Sloan Digital Sky Survey //
He got a F but he an A //
I followed his career the first day //
It seemed the of support contributed to his inert ways //
Ive him put in twenty-four hour workdays //
deferred pay, undeterred by the worst shame //
Public was the worst pain //
He was spinning out of like a class five hurricane //
He said he wouldnt want another emcee to suffer the //
when theres nothing to gain //
He was the illest but nobody would face it //
He spit til his tongue was too torched to it //
Properly funded corporations his latest creations //
To extract the information, they found it amazing //
claimed the body of his work was the same thing as a priceless painting //
Never mattered to him the art hated him //
Cause Thomas Kinkade called and he would take ten //
Complete wrapped in puzzles encrypted in language //
With sound but shape or signature //
Kept files in his garage on in a fireproof pod, we thought it was odd //
Outside there was a shed with an lock //
He apparently kept wax than Madame Tussaud //
We in total awe cause it blew our minds //
So many rhymes were intricately designed //
He WAS laureate of his time //
And if you dont mind Id like to share some of his //
Alone in my room looking through the thirty-two X zoom //
the focus of the moon //
One should not the philosophy of David Hume is nothing more than a subjective conclusion //
What is the maximum rate application? //
The runaway glaciation the ocean basin //
Affects the population fluctuation on a continuous but thats just the basics //
The juxtaposition of Can-I-Buss //
The precision of something no has written //
Way and beyond what was intended //
The unparalleled enunciation of a sentence //
You didnt go to college, //
I can tell by ungodly unintelligible terminology //
Your odyssey //
The at modest speeds when the brain orders the body not to breathe //
Your competency is not up to speed, not in my league //
You couldnt possibly be hotter me //
Or oppositely at minus degrees //
Youll squeeze but the condensation rifle barrels freeze //
Allow me to figuratively, nigga please //
My intellectual about the size of Greece //
counselor advised you not to speak //
My counselor advised me to keep rhyming they stopped the beat //
In the words of Joseph Heller, I learned how to better, even though it sort of irked me //
He said he didnt understand the process of the imagination but he he was at its mercy //
Which exploits my perfectly //
And certainly reinforces the reason why probably ever heard of me //
Couldnt what I mean by ill //
Lest you try to translate what I print to //
is the line of will, the circle of time, the cycle of eternity, the emergence of one line //
Academic render critics tongue-tied //
The personified dry humor of cum laude //
A wise man sees as progress //
A fool divorces his knowledge and the logic //
And loses his soul in the process obsessed with with a caricature that has no content //
My style is masterful, multilateral, I battle a fool and be naturally cruel //
Words of scorn are a disastrous tool, from an existentialists view Im a rapper than you //
Grab the mic and rip your physical in two, my attitude is fucked up but admirable //
Different methods interpreted into different //
From entirely different perceptions and seen different norms //
Not just a poem, theres much more involved //
Theres much pieces of the puzzle for you to solve //
Forty-eight of mechanical laws //
And rays of creational cause the cadence of my bars //
Maybe I am //
But the effect, to find the cause you should ask my A&R //
Today is what it is but because yesterday was what it was //
Permitting youve heard of //
A tale of demons and drugs, pissy drunk in the //
With the DJ doing the needle rub, are youd never see me, son //
Yeah, I know my Canibus but I cant help you if you need a dub //
I came to holler at some big booty bitches and listen to the speakers //
Whered you get conceited from? Im so nice on the mic they to beat me up //
Its deep as fuck, I seen it all but Ive seen enough, really unbelievable stuff //
a lot of times when I want to speak but Im stuck //
I should leave this rap shit alone and kick my incredible in the privacy of my own home //
My imagination is my own, the liberty to freely lyrically on the microphone //
With a pen in my hand I bring motion to the and become Can-I-Millennium Man //
Engrave my back the Emperors Stamp //
Been spitting scientific rap the seventeenth century began //
Trying to escape the wicked of Def Jam in the land where lyrics are bland and heretics hang //
Every has an ax to bury, but he has to learn to discern between enemy and adversary //
I said to myself, Germaine, this is insane, its suicide, its controlled flight terrain //
I fought to regain control the plane but went up in a ball of //
And got banned the Hip-Hop Hall of Fame //
For two bars I kept hearing in my head and over again //
It cost me //
Im convinced now that more than the truth is at //
Where people create that pretends to communicate //
Euphemisms are misunderstood as //
But its a byproduct of the music we make //
From an extroverted of view, I think its too late //
Hip-Hop has never been the since eighty-eight //
it became a lucrative profession theres a misconception //
That a movement in any is progression //
Even though the of it lessens //
Big industries writing checks to suppress the question //
And nobody gives a no more //
No one goes to the ever since the confluence of Moores Law //
But I stay in the lab like Niels Bohr, his son Aage, Edward and Leo Szilard //
Lyrically I took rap and turned the knob //
To the right full-throttle and added //
Why would I argue with my own over the truth //
Thats like me telling myself, Dont tell me to do //
and analyses of battle emcees, sometimes I say things I myself cant believe //
My lyrical is so elliptical, I can understand how it makes you miserable //
You why I never let you play your beats for me? //
And why I keep my studio enshrouded in //
You wonder whats my infatuation with Keys? //
Canibus, why dont you to me? //
Yo, I it when I said no one can shine on a song that features me //
why I said it so vehemently //
You need to replace the hate with respect, Im the best yet //
Laureate! //