Luyện nghe bài hát Professor Booty

Yes, I got more bounce than the fucking
And you want to know why because I'm motherfuckin' truckin'
I'm in the pocket like Grady Tate
Got supplies of beats so you have to wait
'Cause I'm the master blaster, up the shasta
My voice sounds 'cause it has to (looking good!)
So light a match to my ass 'cause I'm up
I'd like to the people for just showin' up
But now I want to move it
Put your point on the floor and prove it
And I'm smurfin', not rehearsin', live, y'all
A puffy, so you know what, I'm doin' right
that's the kind of frame of mind I'm in
I got feelin' that it's back again
So don't touch me, I'm electric
And if you touch me, you'll get

You got, you got, you got, you got, you got
You've got the boomin' system, but it's out doo-doo
You think it's chocolate milk, but it's watered Yoo-hoo
I've through many times in which I thought I might lose it
The only thing that saved me, has been music
got our own studio, the Son of the G
It's no question, been good to me
'Cause ain't nothing but a good groove
A good mixtape to put you in the right
This one goes out to my man, the Merchant
Coming through beats for which I've been searching
two sealed copies, of Expansions
I'm like Tom Vu with yachts and
The logo I is the face of the monkey
Union made, Ben Davis-quality, it's no junk,
My chrome is shining, like an icicle
I ride around in my low-rider bicyle

So many wack emcees, you get the TV
Ain't even gonna call out your names, 'cause you're so
And one big oaf, who's than plastic
A dictionary definition of the spastic
You should have never started something that you finish
'Cause writin' to me is like Popeye to spinach
I'm bad ass, move ya' fat ass, 'cause wack, son
Dancing around like you think Janet Jackson
Thought you could walk on me to get some to walk on
put the rug out under your ass as I talk on
I'll take you out a sniper on a roof
Like an at the fever in the DJ booth
your headphones strapped, you're rockin' rewind/pause
Tryin' to figure out you can do to go for yours
But like a pencil to a paper, I got more to
One another, you can all get some
So you better your time, and meditate on your rhyme
'Cause shit'll be stinkin' when I go for mine
And that's right, y'all, get uptight, y'all
You can't say because you're biting what I write, y'all
And that's wrong, y'all, the long haul
You can't cut the mustard you're fronting it all