Luyện nghe bài hát Professor Booty

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

You got, you got, you got, you got, you got
You've got the boomin' system, but it's sloshing out
You think it's milk, but it's watered down Yoo-hoo
I've been through many in which I thought I might lose it
The only thing that saved me, has always been
got our own studio, the Son of the G
It's no question, life's been to me
'Cause life ain't but a good groove
A good to put you in the right mood
This one out to my man, the Groove Merchant
Coming through with beats for I've been searching
Like two sealed copies, of
I'm Tom Vu with yachts and mansions
The logo I sport is the face of the
made, Ben Davis-quality, it's no junk, see?
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, you're so wack
And one big oaf, who's faker than
A dictionary of the word spastic
You should have never started something that you couldn't
'Cause writin' rhymes to me is Popeye to spinach
I'm bad ass, move ya' fat ass, you're wack, son
Dancing like you think you're 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 like a sniper on a
an emcee at the fever in the DJ booth
With your headphones strapped, you're rewind/pause
to figure out what you can do to go for yours
But like a pencil to a paper, I got to come
One another, you can all get some
So you better take your time, and on your rhyme
'Cause your shit'll be stinkin' I go for mine
And that's right, y'all, don't get uptight,
You can't say shit you're biting what I write, y'all
And that's wrong, y'all, the long haul
You can't cut the mustard when you're it all