Luyện nghe bài hát Rework The Angles

it out now
I work the like, off the cushion in the sidepocket
Electrifying like a socket
Hit em all flavors, yup
We tryin to be with pro-ballplayers, I'm talkin papers
Or it realer, and see me on a iron caterpillar
On point like a killer, ready, to deliver
Type gifted, the mic right, or I might rip it
Critics dig my style cause I different, no hype
I kick it, low-lifes, they wanna get it
I shine the ice when I hold mics, everytime
Got every dime, sayin nigga so nice, you know what?
They so right, you get stuck, go twice
Lit it up when I blow

Show mic precise, require
That's no hassle, the master got more loops than
Y'all hear me? they all theories
Worthless, like testing ev' the purpose
Since the beginning, intrigued by pot and attentive
and windmills on concrete
Covered by cardboard, seafloor to
Bottom line, in rhyme yo, put in time you
right sometimes I get so hyped
I feel like d the best producer on the mic
I this -- most punchlines are tasteless
Regular, average, mediocre,
To all my dj's, with you got a lotta
ain't on your mixtape, yo it coulda been hotta
The method in this game they'll you drained and strangles
Don't go to them, let em to you, and work the angles

sleep on, I leave your knee torn, like sehorn
Liquid mc storm, children of the corn, a wild freeform
Of energy, fit to last a century
Like centuries, one double-zero to victories
You me me? come wack that's not my history
Kidnap the wack and break his ankles, remember
Lyrically you're out of control
Work the angles 'round the globe, from to south pole
It's so cold mc's catch pneumonia
I'm airborne, from l.a. to
I heads from pomona out the bronx
Drop the sure contact, now watch me launch
Dj's, you jugglin, that I'm bubblin
Defari on the remix fix, shit is thunderin
Picture me fumblin or the ball
That's like guy without that nigga aaron hall

Well if a brother gets the of me
no use in sniveling and blaming the referee
Fuck that, I strip the mic tenacous d
Kick it up to evidence, yo it out to me
Line up the three, stroked properly
Rocca, I work the angles triple
The multi-beat real monopoly
My g is god, your g for, geometry?
This man of war cold on the seashore
An enough to take it to the sea floor
Every single beat like a c-4
We drop beats, why you what the beat for?
The spitfire fighter dilated
I'm learning like shockra building energy
barbershops sipping henny like the kennedy's
I'm always been independent, that's to beni b
It's