Luyện nghe bài hát Sh. Fe. MC's

We are to tell the world just who we are
female (MC's), shocking female (MC's) (Repeat 2x)

Verse 1:

No for, introductions, cause I know you know my name and
MC's out the frame and, putting them suckers to shame and
I live for hip-hop, so I have no for fun and games and
So just and peep the unique styles we are displaying
The just ridiculous, the lyrics articulate
Feels good, as if a girl just her (tits)
MC's, I'm killing 'em, I'm so sick of seeing 'em
Silly (shit) they rhyme, like that red rugby shirt worn by Gilligan
Plus the hat, (shit) is wack
When you see me take ten steps back
I make of the pronouns, adjectives, verbs
My granny says "You always had a way words"
And that's my word is bond, lyrics are laws
Sucker MC's look at me I'm friggin' eye sore

Verse 2:

Heere comes a brother hipping others on the they lack
I've rhymed abstract, I even know the brother named Abstract
I am the of the soul in mine
Forget the physical cause the physical will die time
I'm shaped to in definite proportions
Of the who need the fix (Just listen to the mix)
I just constant non-stop for the rubbishing
Like (niggas) use the Clinton loops as if owned the publishing
Ducks be bleeding illegal feeding on my verb
I bring the Mardi Gras to your
I outwit in my rhyme cipher
I can lick them cause they're victims of the subconscious race
periods in front of false reps?
It's not the 187 the 360 slept
You swallow the cake from the plate of
Or you might get sparked by the who got the weight
So rap like the hicks do with Presley
It's the kid who peed the jeans in Orleans off of
Just be MC number nine, if you let me nine times infinitely I will

I let my Walkman from Sony cassettes from Raboni
guarantees to put me on the narrow road
Ayo, that's it from me, 3, and Ali explode!

Verse 3:

When I rhyme, the just ripples
You sound sick, I hope cells get sickles
You into real stiff (shit)
Then I bet it cut the chit chit
Cause the Ab will, be than a Ginsu
Cutter or your bum (ass) head for the
This is not a and we ain't looking for the fame
ain't the aim, we came to rip the jam out the frame
My inter-reaction paper is amazing
So needless to say mad trails are left
A lot of bull(shit) rhymes start to get play
But I'm here to say rhymes to pay
I'm the type of brother that writes until my knuckles get
And through the domepiece, the rhymes carry
Then to my throat then the quotes hit the air
As I dipped with the wares
Rhymes get slot times, back from the jack
It's the verbal constructor, MC's is wack
I make a do the bogle, doo doo brown and all
Make (niggas) up, drink Don, and have a ball
I ainimate the unlively with the verbal
The Abstract, never the
of the many like Moses
Moving through, bringing games into the dummies that us
means you the sub relator of the sub culture
Like a vulture I swoop down on crowns, confusion all around
burdens I bring to MC's who sing
They sad songs, money, the not long
Mine on the other hand is lent me
The Abstract real, real, real

Verse 4:

Real down to Earth I hit the Island Rail
You see me tango with the horn and the tail
I got the kid for your mind I it like sender
Smoking hope from my neighbors, and the
50/50 luck the "S" off my chest
Cause the "S" on my chest a mess
Settling for Superman, stupid man, put on glasses
Now your (ass) be slow guessing like
Continue the menu, on the platter
Hey where that (bitch) at? (He's right boy!)
I gotta see what I got and who I'm it with
This ain't no nickle dime game that I'm with
Mikie said "Stop riding, it be dividing
me out how I be vibing"
Packing hard like but my pops got the crystal
Told me if I ever need it *whistle*
Respects to Dog for the razor
respects to Joe but for the favor
It's about a million brothers to make it in this world
I'm I got a baby girl