Luyện nghe bài hát Straight From Queens

Rippin' the
And the stage apart.
MC's ain't got no heart,
They need to quit before start.
and breakin' 'em down.
at least.
'em up, up at least.
'em in a pilek.
Now a stomp 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.
When I on
I'm it up
Just a madman.
I fly head,
off your legs,
And make head stand.
Tax and wreckin' chumps
All of I rub out.
You the time.
What's on your
You I never go out.
I be bouts.
Ya
block; is full of bums, see.
You never was too
Stick the in you,
done G.

The rip
With the
Of all the rappers.
Toe to toe.
I go
I
The will smack 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.
Look at me
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 title
Around neck,
swingin' loose.
I take gem.
I'm takin' it off your
every line that I select,
And it up and cuttin'.
While I'm
disrespect.
off.
Yeah,
Squeezin' like a grip,
ya off the stage,
the crowd,
So a nice trip.

I'm control.
I
The microphone as as gold.
Fly, so heads.
I my twenty-fifth
pole.
it out,
And wrecked
Is a understatement.
How to rap a flat,
Puttin' his
the pavement.
'em up,
Just like a 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.
You're out,
Like a to me.
your little
Boo-hoo, baby.
drop.
style.
Breakin' it
Until dust,
And vacuum up the pile.
Showin',
And provin',
And groovin',
And makin a
On the mic.
a Marlboro
In his mouth,
Just
A dirty tyke.
Master of the
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 like a relic.
the line,
on mine,
But ya never live to it.
it off quick,
the script.
in the bushes,
Then walkin' the jam.
I'm handin' out
And mushes.
You're a face.
You to test my slick maneuver?
Your best to a break beat,
Or somethin' you can to.
Even if rapper
In the was makin' jams,
As as I set this off
Their mics are
Out hands.
Rockin' the world
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 the street
In every I toured.
I'm the truth,
living god
That's right ya eyes.
And be rollin'
In and sneakers,
You can the suit and ties.
No out.
Bet ya never dies.
that microphone,
rip it up
sunrise.