Luyện nghe bài hát Show & Prove

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I like, to grab my dick with my right
Who could ever say that I don't get plenty
Win Lose or Draw, I'm bookin whores,
As I get ready I'm if I go crazy I'd take Eddie

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

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

Yo, yo, I spark the mic like weed in a cipher
And I get girls open like a reggae song by
So me out, as I flip this here track kid
And make mad noise a Metallica record

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

My jams be packed a Farrakhan rally, what?
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

Super 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 show and

Now tell me is the man?
With the high-potent lyrics no rapper can ever
And steppin' to me, I can be touched? Huh
Not even Michael Jordan'll that much, yo

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

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

Look my rap book at every text my man
And see that I got, more than the Mexican
The Messiah that's great, leavin' rappers in a weird state
straight, for their prepared fate

Strong as an elephant, intelligent, and elegant
So in it with every single element
And gets none! Huh
If I was pantyhose you still couldn't give me no run

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

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

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

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

I'm with styles, ta-dow
I've in it runnin' a hundred miles I'm well endowed, baby gal
Uhh, the greatest nigga to touch it, you can't 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 like Prince jeans, I the ass out a nigga
When I it it's in the pocket, baby mop it don't knock it
you try it, once you start, you can't stop it
I'm the cocky breed, I'm dope like poppy

I live one rent besides that be
between get off my dick and jockin' me
When I a rhyme you're diggin' the sound
I know you 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 show and

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

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

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

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