Luyện nghe bài hát Say Somethin'

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

Uh, Opus of a ghetto boy who into a project man
Brewster Place (booster plates), he used to his scissors in his sockets damn
clear that Project Runway, 'cause this is where my rocket
ain't got no problems, Houston, I A.K.A. rocket land
Events recent lit a fire under him like pots and pans
rockets and I (eye) up in the sky like helicopter
And you down in the traffic jam
from here seen a bunch of fake shit like avid wrestling fans
Came up from the bottom of the eye exam,
Now I'm the biggest G off in the room
hard to see me like the truth on TV
or the from the sidewalk, I don't flow (floor), I ceiling
My mama said need me
'cause, I'm made from the best on earth like Snapple Tea Leaves
they glass is half full so I spit into them like
no G, now you can see me
but your letters' (lettuce) still under my sea (C) seaweed
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 to the soccer moms
try to stop going on
see the back of my hand like the tops of palms
I'm balling like the of pawns

circle of influence getting bigger like the ripples on the of ponds
Short-footed and War Headed like the tops of
Dominoing niggas, delivery is Papa John's, Ceaser's, uh
burning down your Pizza
Plaque collection building 'cause, I don't brush my enough
yeah, is wack and reefer sucks, you might think this deep as fuck
but this like my 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 of us, rapping acid, eat this up
A-Town down, peace is up, New York to East Coast is
West Side riding, lot of niggas salty
I be overseas and (over seasoned) tough.
Everything seamless, WorldStar seen this
NahRight gotta this, motherfucking genius
and fly, you backboneless and wingless
bunch of chickens on the strip, I'm for they fingers
till what throwing up is meaningless
Chilly Chill you seeing this? This make MTV's list
Finish fingers, wrist, feeding frenzy and shit
Succotash suffering, Chicken Fricassee-en
a beat eating media
pace is feverish, pain is growing severe-ish
the peppers Peter picked
things are at their easiest, Real Compton G'in it
but I'm Chicago, house lights, bravos

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