Luyện nghe bài hát Show & Prove

Hah hah, hey hey, laugh now
My man's right behind you, pull the trigger
I play, I'm from the hill where shit is real
And I'll be on your ass bugs on a windshield

So bring your grip or you can twice
'Cause I got more rhymes than a pound bag of rice
I'm hitting hard, oh word, I'm rock it
Once the shit drops, that's to the pocket

I cut hand, you can't get no cards
You couldn't deal with if we was playin' cards
But if I got beef and it's time for red
My drill is like a hoe, and be mad niggaz to bed
So up and skedaddle

Even if you join a army, you couldn't battle
So you from? England, you somebody great?
You Scoob, "I don't think so mate"
I got the style that gets you like a bag of smoke

I have your friends "Ah-hah man, that shit dope"
Leave me alone I'm rocking on the microphone
and play like E.T. and phone your black ass
Yo Sauce, if you're with the groo-hoove
Get on the mic and ya show and prove

Hey, here I with a slick rap, tic tac toe
I flip tracks, so gimme my dick, back
I flow to it and through it, if you need to wonder
how you got dope like Sauce, you didn't do it

I write my own with hope, drink of Scope
Wrote what I figured, nope, you dig a nigga doe
Rhymes too drastic, bastard, pull hookers elastic
N.B.A. style,
No to bite, but I just might, tonight I write left-handed

'Cuz I like, to grab my with my right
Who could say that I don't get plenty play
Win or Draw, I'm bookin whores, anyway
As I get I'm steady if I go crazy I'd take Eddie

If I was Fred, I think I'd to bone Betty
Suckin' and luckin', hey, I'm duckin', nay
no never meaning ain't no motherfuckin way
Rappers get come on and get fast

Try to get past when I blast, and you can hand over ass
One line and that's
Rappers get so damn pussy gotta go for a pap smear
So Shyheim, if your down the groove
Get on the mic it's to show and prove

Yo, yo, I spark the mic like that's in a cipher
And I get open like a reggae song by Tiger
So check me out, as I flip this track kid
And mad noise like a Metallica record

I'm psycho, a villain to the styles I be
I'm thrusted, and all competition gets dusted
'Cause I rock the from U.S.A. to Asia to Russia
If your shit stinks I'ma flush ya, bust ya
Like a man from Cali son

My jams be like a Farrakhan rally, what?
You know my style, I put the F in foul
The Rugged Child locks you down Rikers Isle
And got more girls than a Trailerload Shabba

More than Cat, I'm the punani Don Dada
So Big Daddy, if you're down the groove my man
Get on the mic and ya show and prove

Now tell me whoooo is the
With the high-potent no rapper can ever stand
And steppin' to me, thinkin' I can be Huh
Not even Jordan'll gamble that much, yo

I get on it and give it to rappers
That even act like they it
I for your title kid, run it!
Or else get hit the ultimate, too legit skit

Ahh yeah, that shit
Drop lyrics on ya, as ammonia
That is I thrown ya, scold ya, ya, I tried to warn ya
You was wack I known ya, fake as a cubic zirconia
What did I just show ya, real doggone ya

inside my rap book at every text my man
And see that I got, more essays the Mexican
The Messiah feared great, leavin' rappers in a weird state
Scared straight, for their prepared

as an elephant, intelligent, compelling and elegant
So well in it with every element
And competition none! Huh
If I was wearing pantyhose you still couldn't me no run

I see the way trying to get to me
But with with speech impediment, man you gotta come G
You're hitting all the switches troop begin again
Mumble rappers couldn't last a minute with

The non-resistable,
No no I'm not I'm the best
I'm sayin I'm fuckin' incredible!
And let's just one more thing understood

That if I fart on a record, trust me nigga it'll good
So Jay-Z, if you're with the groove, my mellow
Get on the mic it's to show and prove

Uh, one it two, checkin' it three
Check out the J, out the A
Check out the Y, out the Z, Hey G!
I'm breaking MC's up EPMD
And these nuts if you tryin ta see me

I'm buckwild styles, ta-dow
I've been in it runnin' a miles I'm well endowed, baby gal
Uhh, the greatest to touch it, you niggaz can't fuck with
The, skills of the G from Brooklyn, big up kid
And ain't no eatin me up, you fuckin' with jigga

I'm like Prince jeans, I the ass out a nigga
When I rock it it's in the pocket, baby mop it knock it
Till you try it, you start, you can't stop it
I'm the cocky breed, I'm like poppy seed

I one rent from besides that be
between get off my dick and stop me
I bust a rhyme you're diggin' the sound
I you lovin' the way it's, goin' down baby
So Ason huh, if you're down the groove, why don't ya
Get on the mic and and prove

Come on, Wu-Tang killa on a swarm
Rain on your ass, disco dorm
Slippery when wet and don't you ever
You couldn't get a flick, of the outfit

Because the way I dress this style mad wild
Enough to a crowd of women scream "Ow!"
Whether at a or just in bed
All thoughts on Ason, keep that in your

Yuh, my beats are funky and my are spunky
Sometimes I'll be like "Well god what's the recipe?"
I don't know, I ask my momma she don't
she "Go ask you goddamned father!"
It's all me in the place to be

Niggas thing all that, yo, that shit is G
Mad and it's a motherfucking shame
How many enemies wanna claim the
Of Ason, who carries on like a
Yo sounds fly right