Luyện nghe bài hát Show & Prove

Hah hah, hey hey, now nigga
My man's behind you, Kane pull the trigger
I don't play, I'm from the hill shit is real
And be on your ass like bugs on a windshield

So bring your grip or you can think
'Cause I got more than a five 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 still can't get no
You couldn't with Scoob if we was playin' cards
But if I got beef and it's for code red
My drill is a hoe, and be takin mad niggaz to bed
So hurry up and

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

I have your friends "Ah-hah man, that ain't dope"
me alone when I'm rocking on the microphone
and play like E.T. and phone your black ass
Yo Sauce, if you're down with the
Get on the mic and won't ya and prove

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

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

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

If I was Fred, I think I'd to bone Betty
Suckin' and luckin', hey, I'm duckin', nay
Nada no meaning ain't no motherfuckin way
Rappers get gassed on and get fast

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

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

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

My jams be packed like a Farrakhan rally,
You know my style, I put the F in effin'
The Child locks you down like Rikers Isle
And got more girls than a Trailerload with

More than Cat, I'm the punani Don Dada
So Big Daddy, if down with the groove my man
Get on the mic and won't ya and prove

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

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

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

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

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

I see the way you're to get to me
But with with speech impediment, man you come better G
hitting all the wrong switches troop begin again
Mumble mouth rappers last a minute with

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

That if I on a record, trust me nigga it'll sound good
So Jay-Z, if you're with the groove, my mellow
Get on the mic time 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 like
And nuts if you rappers tryin ta see me

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

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

I live one from besides that be
between get off my and stop jockin' me
When I bust a you're diggin' the sound
I know you lovin' the way it's, goin' down
So huh, if you're down with the groove, why don't ya
Get on the mic and show and

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

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

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

Niggas they all that, yo, that shit is G
Mad game and it's a shame
How many wanna claim the name
Of Ason, who carries on like a
Yo sounds fly danger