Luyện nghe bài hát Say Somethin'

Uh, we just going to keep it going and
until I feel completed and about it. You know?

Uh, Opus of a boy who grew into a project man
Brewster Place (booster plates), he used to stick his in his sockets damn
clear that Runway, 'cause this is where my rocket lands
got no problems, Houston, I A.K.A. then rocket land
Events that lit a fire under him like pots and pans
rockets and I (eye) up in the sky like cams
And you there in the traffic jam
from here I've a bunch of fake shit like avid wrestling fans
Came up from the of the eye exam, zoom
Now I'm the biggest G off in the room
still to see me like the truth on TV
or the from the sidewalk, I don't flow (floor), I ceiling
My said they need me
'cause, I'm made from the stuff on earth like Snapple Tea Leaves
glass is half full so I spit into them like Celie
no G, now you can see me
but your letters' (lettuce) still under my sea (C) like
C and G but nothing me CG
It's all real, of this is green screen
(Shut Up and Let Me Go) just like The Ting
I'm feeling like a Mac, standing around a of PCs
I've rocked it from the shouters to the moms
try to stop going on
you'll see the back of my hand like the of palms
I'm balling like the of pawns

circle of influence getting bigger the ripples on the tops of ponds
Short-footed and War Headed the tops of bombs
Dominoing niggas, is Papa John's, Little Ceaser's, uh
burning down your Pizza
Plaque collection building 'cause, I don't brush my enough
yeah, Crack is wack and reefer sucks, you think this deep as fuck
but like my weaker stuff
they ask "Is this his day-to-day 'cause this is a week to us?"
Mic is shy and blush, I is shy (Chi) and he is up
I correct, me is up - no we is up - its like two of me
and each of us, rapping acid, eat up
A-Town down, is up, New York to East Coast is tough
Side riding, lot of niggas salty 'cause
'cause I be and (over seasoned) tough.
Everything seamless, WorldStar never seen
gotta stream this, motherfucking genius
Brave and fly, you backboneless and
bunch of chickens on the strip, I'm for they fingers
till they throwing up is meaningless
Chilly Chill you seeing this? This didn't make MTV's
Finish fingers, eating wrist, frenzy and shit
suffering, Chicken Fricassee-en this
a eating media blitz
pace is feverish, pain is growing severe-ish
these the peppers picked
things are at their easiest, Real Compton city it
but I'm from Chicago, house lights,

Yeah, I'm playing... Internet, check!