Luyện nghe bài hát Straight From Queens

Rippin' the
And the stage apart.
These MC's got no heart,
They to quit before they start.
and breakin' 'em down.
at least.
'em up, up at least.
'em in a pilek.
Now have a and a smile, G.


Jason.
When I be
rappers,
style,
down.
Their petty bassin',
All in my face.
You got the mic,
But I getcha off it.
You got my rhyme,
Now it.
Brother, the tip and forfeit.
nada,
not a,
I'm hotter.
You're a trotter.

Switch the 'e' an 'a,'
And karata.
I come on
I'm it up
like a madman.
I fly head,
off your legs,
And your head stand.
Tax and these chumps
All of I rub out.
You the time.
What's on mind?
You know I go out.
I be bouts.
Ya
block; is full of bums, see.
You was too clever
Stick the in you,
done G.

The rip
With the
Of all the rappers.
Toe to toe.
I go
I
The flow will ya.
ya full a lead,
Just a nine.
it off in half the time.
Takin' a
And mine.
way behind.
Ya a title,
And all the
your title for ya.
Hopin',
And prayin',
And wishin',
That I rap,
But I rip all a
In half.
at me laugh
Ya style.
Ya it.
Mmm, I see goodies.
the mic and hoodie.
Now I'll it.
Any,
The every,
The his,
The hers,
Of those,
Of theirs,
Of them,
I see your
Around neck,
swingin' loose.
I take gem.
I'm takin' it off your
With every that I select,
And it up and cuttin'.
While I'm
disrespect.
off.
Yeah,
Squeezin' a vice grip,
ya off the stage,
the crowd,
So have a trip.

I'm control.
I
The as good as gold.
Fly, so heads.
I built my
pole.
it out,
And gettin'
Is a understatement.
How to rap a flat,
Puttin' his
the pavement.
'em up,
Just a flame thrower.
'em
With the flower.
'em out in pairs,
the man, Noah.
'em up
Just a trophy,
For the to see.
You ain't superb,
You see.
goin' out,
Like a to me.
Takin' little
Boo-hoo, baby.
drop.
style.
Breakin' it
there's dust,
And vacuum up the pile.
Showin',
And provin',
And groovin',
And makin a
On the mic.
Slappin' a
In his mouth,
Just
A dirty tyke.
of the murderous
Maniac,
Mad style,
man.
the mic
Since I was
A child.
Props and
More props than 2.
pen and pad
I to you,
And on the too.
Endlessly energy,
lyrically,
my empire.
You don't to test me.

of funkadelic.
Every album's a relic.
the line,
on mine,
But ya never to tell it.
it off quick,
the script.
in the bushes,
Then walkin' the jam.
I'm handin' out
And mushes.
makin' a face.
You to test my slick maneuver?
best to rock a break beat,
Or you can groove to.
Even if every
In the world was jams,
As soon as I set off
mics are slidin'
Out hands.
Rockin' the junky's
the release
Of single.
in the days
I ya,
I need a
To ya jingle.

the sword,
And off the mic cord.
are dead
All over the
In every I toured.
I'm the truth,
living god
That's right ya eyes.
And be rollin'
In and sneakers,
You can keep the and ties.
No out.
Bet ya never dies.
that microphone,
rip it up
sunrise.