Luyện nghe bài hát Professor Booty

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

You got, you got, you got, you got, you got
got the boomin' system, but it's sloshing out doo-doo
You think it's chocolate milk, but it's watered Yoo-hoo
been through many times in which I thought I might lose it
The only thing that me, has always been music
got our own studio, the Son of the G
It's no question, life's good to me
'Cause ain't nothing but a good groove
A good mixtape to put you in the mood
This one out to my man, the Groove Merchant
Coming with 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, just an icicle
I around town in my low-rider bicyle

So wack emcees, you get the TV bozak
Ain't even gonna call out your names, you're so wack
And one big oaf, who's than plastic
A dictionary definition of the word
You should never started something that you couldn't finish
'Cause writin' rhymes to me is Popeye to spinach
I'm bad ass, move ya' fat ass, 'cause wack, son
Dancing around like you think you're Jackson
Thought you could walk on me to get some ground to on
I'll put the rug out under your ass as I on
I'll take you out like a sniper on a
Like an emcee at the fever in the DJ
With your headphones strapped, you're rockin'
to figure out what 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 take your time, and on your rhyme
your shit'll be stinkin' when I go for mine
And right, y'all, don't get uptight, y'all
You can't say shit because you're biting what I write,
And that's wrong, y'all, the long haul
You can't cut the mustard you're fronting it all