Luyện nghe bài hát Straight From Queens

Rippin' the
And blowin the apart.
MC's ain't 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 gotta 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
Just a madman.
I fly head,
off your legs,
And make your stand.
Tax and wreckin' chumps
All of I rub out.
You the time.
What's on mind?
You know I go out.
I be bouts.
Ya
Your is full of bums, see.
You never was too
Stick the in you,
You're G.

The rip
With the
Of all the rappers.
Toe to toe.
I go
I
The flow smack ya.
Pumpin' ya a lead,
Just a nine.
it off in half the time.
Takin' a
And mine.
way behind.
Ya a title,
And all the
Made 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 your
Around neck,
swingin' loose.
I your gem.
I'm it off your neck
every line that I select,
And it up and cuttin'.
I'm starin'
disrespect.
off.
Yeah,
Squeezin' a vice grip,
ya off the stage,
the crowd,
So have a trip.

I'm control.
I
The microphone as 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 really superb,
You see.
You're out,
Like a to me.
Takin' little
Boo-hoo, baby.
drop.
style.
Breakin' it
Until dust,
And I'ma up the pile.
Showin',
And provin',
And groovin',
And makin a
On the mic.
a Marlboro
In his mouth,
Just
A dirty tyke.
of the murderous
Maniac,
Mad style,
man.
the mic
Since I was
A child.
and props;
More props Terminator 2.
pen and pad
I to you,
And on the too.
with energy,
lyrically,
my empire.
You want to test me.

of funkadelic.
Every album's 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.
makin' a face.
You want to test my slick
best to rock a break beat,
Or you can groove to.
if every rapper
In the world was jams,
As soon as I set off
Their mics are
Out hands.
the junky's world
With the
Of single.
Back in the
I ya,
I a beat
To ya jingle.

the sword,
And off the mic cord.
Rappers are
All the street
In every I toured.
I'm the truth,
With god
That's before ya eyes.
And I'll be
In and sneakers,
You can keep the and ties.
No out.
Bet ya uncle dies.
Gimme microphone,
rip it up
sunrise.