Luyện nghe bài hát Rework The Angles

* also featured on sway and king "this or that"

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

Show mic precise, sacrifice
That's no hassle, the master got more loops lassos
Y'all me? they all conspiracy theories
Worthless, like testing ev' defeats the
the beginning, intrigued by pot and attentive women
Breakbeats and on concrete
Covered by cardboard, to skyline
Bottom line, in rhyme yo, put in you shine
right sometimes I get so hyped
I feel diamond d the best producer on the mic
I this -- most punchlines are tasteless
Regular, average, mediocre,
To all my dj's, skills you got a lotta
This ain't on your mixtape, yo it been hotta
The method in this game they'll have you drained and
Don't go to them, let em come to you, and work the

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

Well if a brother the best of me
Ain't no use in sniveling and blaming the
that, I strip the mic with tenacous d
Kick it up to evidence, yo it out to me!
Line up the three, trifecta stroked
Rocca, I work the angles triple
The hip-hop multi-beat monopoly
My g is god, what's g for, geometry?
This man of war beats cold on the
An deeo enough to it to the sea floor
Every beat bangs like a c-4
We drop beats, why you asking what the for?
The spitfire fighter entity
I'm learning shockers like shockra building
While barbershops sipping henny like the
I'm always been independent, that's to beni b
It's

Make t-shirts and slingshots, I bust khakis out, bounce to the weed
Naturally, me and my faculty never play this
I used to h.e.r. too, but now I fucking hate the bitch
She's sucking up to all the with the chains and whips
But that's alright, because all she do for me is pay the
And it moving, got a bad habit of losing my cool
Acting a fool, breaking out tools, and making the whole move
Towards the exit, this be the shit, we got you dilated
Hotter than satan, the repeated parole
Xzibit the angles, cordless to dirty angels
How the west was won: microphones and turntables