Luyện nghe bài hát Show & Prove

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

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

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

Even if you join a army, you still battle
So you from? England, you somebody great?
You burnin' Scoob, "I think so mate"
I got the style that gets you open a bag of smoke

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

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

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

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

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

Try to get past when I blast, and you can over your 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 time to show and

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

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

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

More Super than Cat, I'm the punani Don
So Big Daddy, if you're with the groove my man
Get on the mic and won't ya show and

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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 nuts if you rappers tryin ta see me

I'm buckwild with styles,
I've been in it runnin' a miles I'm well endowed, baby gal
Uhh, the greatest nigga to touch it, you niggaz can't fuck
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, baby mop it don't it
Till you try it, once you start, you stop it
I'm the cocky breed, I'm dope like poppy

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

on, Wu-Tang killa bees on a swarm
Rain on your ass, disco dorm
Slippery when wet and you ever forget
You get a flick, of the hype outfit

Because the way that I dress this mad wild
to make 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 and my rhymes are spunky
Sometimes I'll be like "Well god damn the recipe?"
I don't know, I ask my momma she know
she "Go ask you goddamned father!"
It's all about me in the to be

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