Luyện nghe bài hát Poet Laureate II

Yo, why is the Ripper so //
That be an unpardonable breech of confidence for me to reveal //
He said, One of days all eyes will be on me //
When they up in the sky and see the neon C //
Rhymes inscribed on a nickel disk in a glass with an ion beam for longevity //
For more ten centuries, impressions and memories //
The first inventor will mention me //
Canibus was a indeed //
He light could travel in multiples of c //
The organic supercomputer that solved the mysteries of Klein-Kaluza two blue metric rulers //
Cool J but thought Steven Jay Gould was cooler //
And he never to propagate rumors //
Smoked Canary cigars //
Liked American luxury cars and beautiful broads //
He had a mind //
He used to philosophize about rhymes while he was pruning his //
He claimed that he had the greatest rhyme of all time //
But he never take it out of his archives //
He two songs per day //
And was constantly with his wordplay //
In his youth he did a report on the Sloan Sky Survey //
He got a F but he an A //
I followed his career the first day //
It seemed the lack of support contributed to his ways //
Ive seen him put in twenty-four hour //
With deferred pay, undeterred by the worst //
Public humiliation was the worst //
He was out of control like a class five hurricane //
He he wouldnt want another emcee to suffer the same //
Especially theres nothing to gain //
He was the illest alive but would face it //
He spit til his tongue was too torched to it //
Properly funded Carbon-dated 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 to him the art galleries hated him //
Cause Thomas Kinkade called and said he would ten //
Complete enigmas wrapped in puzzles in language //
sound but without shape or signature //
Kept files in his garage on MS-DOS in a pod, we thought it was odd //
Outside there was a shed with an lock //
He apparently kept more wax than Madame //
We were in total awe cause it our minds //
So many rhymes that were designed //
He WAS poet of his time //
And if you dont mind Id like to some of his rhymes //
Alone in my looking through the thirty-two X telescope zoom //
Adjusting the of the moon //
One should not assume the philosophy of David is nothing more than a subjective conclusion //
What is the maximum field application? //
The runaway glaciation surrounding the basin //
Affects the population fluctuation on a continuous basis but thats the basics //
The of Can-I-Buss position //
The precision of something no other has //
Way and beyond what was intended //
The unparalleled malleable enunciation of a //
You didnt go to college, //
I can by your ungodly unintelligible terminology //
Your remarkable //
The rhymes at modest speeds the brain orders the body not to breathe //
competency is not up to speed, youre not in my league //
You possibly be hotter than me //
Or at minus twenty-five degrees //
Youll squeeze but the condensation makes rifle freeze //
me to speak figuratively, nigga please //
My intellectual propertys about the of Greece //
Your counselor advised you not to //
My counselor me to keep rhyming until they stopped the beat //
In the words of Joseph Heller, I learned how to write better, though it sort of irked me //
He said he understand the process of the imagination but he felt he was at its mercy //
exploits my point perfectly //
And certainly reinforces the why nobodys probably ever heard of me //
Couldnt understand I mean by ill //
Lest you try to translate what I print to //
This is the line of will, the circle of time, the of eternity, the emergence of one line //
Academic phonetics render critics //
The personified dry humor of cum laude //
A wise man sees failure as //
A fool divorces his and misses the logic //
And loses his in the process obsessed with nonsense with a caricature that has no content //
My is masterful, multilateral, I could battle a fool and be naturally cruel //
Words of scorn are a disastrous tool, from an existentialists view Im a better rapper you //
Grab the mic and rip your physical fabric in two, my attitude is up but admirable //
methods interpreted into different forms //
From entirely different perceptions and seen different norms //
Not spitting a poem, theres much more involved //
Theres much more of the puzzle for you to solve //
Forty-eight orders of laws //
And rays of creational enhance the cadence of my bars //
Maybe I am //
But the effect, to find the cause you should ask my A&R //
Today is it is but only because yesterday was what it was //
youve heard of Beelzebub //
A tale of demons and drugs, pissy in the club //
With the DJ the needle rub, chances are youd never see me, son //
Yeah, I know my names but I cant help you if you need a dub //
I came to holler at some big bitches and listen to the speakers thump //
Whered you get conceited from? Im so nice on the mic want to beat me up //
Its deep as fuck, I aint seen it all but Ive seen enough, really stuff //
Theres a lot of times when I to speak but Im stuck //
I should this rap shit alone and kick my incredible rhymes in the privacy of my own home //
My imagination is my own, the to speak freely lyrically on the microphone //
With a pen in my I bring motion to the Enneagram and become Can-I-Millennium Man //
Engrave my back the Emperors Stamp //
Been scientific rap since the seventeenth century began //
Trying to escape the wicked of Def Jam in the land where lyrics are bland and heretics hang //
Every warrior has an ax to bury, but he has to 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 up in a ball of flames //
And got from the Hip-Hop Hall of Fame //
For two bars I kept hearing in my head over and again //
It me everything //
Im convinced now more than the truth is at stake //
Where people create language that to communicate //
Euphemisms are as mistakes //
But its a byproduct of the ghetto music we //
From an extroverted point of view, I think its too //
has never been the same since eighty-eight //
Since it became a lucrative theres a misconception //
a movement in any direction is progression //
Even the potency of it lessens //
Big money industries writing to suppress the question //
And gives a fuck no more //
No one goes to the bookstore since the confluence of Moores Law //
But I stay in the lab Niels Bohr, his son Aage, Edward Lorenz and Leo Szilard //
I took rap music and turned the knob //
To the right and added panache //
Why would I argue with my own conscience the truth //
Thats like me telling myself, tell me what to do //
Dialyses and analyses of battle emcees, sometimes I say things I myself believe //
My lyrical is so skillfully elliptical, I can understand how it 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 Alicia //
Canibus, why you speak to me? //
Yo, I meant it when I said no one can shine on a that features me //
why I said it so vehemently //
You to replace the hate with respect, Im probably the best yet //
Laureate! //