Luyện nghe bài hát Sum Shit I Wrote

Marks I erase like racism, I'm as as a bigot
is my escapism when I'm bubbly I just kick it
What I need from you is that I'm standing
On my own two, with my own crew

Toe cancer, I'm bad to the bone too, I'm prone to off
When I'm off that Cognac, I can't hold back like a
I get loose like a screw turned left right to tight
it's time for some action, I get Red's, "Tonight's Da Night"

An eye for an eye, a for his wife
Dissected, I'm on some hi-tech shit computers want to
Your is Pascal, mine is Basic and just instinct
I'm the fam and ran scams, me and Murray got up on big links

And if knowledge is the key, goddammit I'm the
Started a missionary way on my life, the mic I rust like
I switch styles like a channel controls that are remote
Engage in a page and words I elope

Walking down the aisles styles I freak the viles
when I rocks like a Z-28
At any rate, gain interest because I loaned them microphones
They house the shit so they had to rent to own

It's like that, coming from the go
I bone Jada Pinkett and that hoe Patra
So keep on and you don't, now on
Ah keep on and you

when I'm alone in my room I stare at the wall
And in the back of my mind I a wack-ass rhyme
And I Alz-rhymers, then forget it, I get charged
a nigga in position with the stolen card the credit

Fuck flipping the script, the rap I'm trying to edit
My mellows call me, "Never", be like, "Never's going to get it"
Never's too much, I'm much too, I do justice to
That's why be like, "Fuck you, fuck you, fuck you!"

studs come through to see what I am up to
They be on the dick of crew that be us sweet and buying us fruit
Like I got the hook up, brothers look out because they look
Rest in peace to 'Heavena', washing tons of rappers Booker

Tee told me, "You gotta get out of the crib, get the world"
How you to come off with the style that's through?
It's like that, on, ha ha
It's that, keep on

My foundation is in black block of niggas that rock they hat
I'm real like a with my rap, rappers I slap box
Back I got my rap, now get your glock out the face
Got flavor with fat taste, the rat race is a rat race

Just you got Adidas with the fat laces
And the fro don't make you hip-hop, tou sorry for funk rap
Why is there so many cranks trying to rhyme, yo that
The real starting to come back

The go is where I'm and where I'm at, jack
I started eating cat I was 10
Before I was getting big dog like Glen Robinson
I don't see wrong with a little bump and grind

But comes a time when you gotta get off of that
The facts of I didn't learn from watching Tootie
But in the big city
But I still like Tootie she got big titties

My style is steep, I write on the incline
Splat guts plus fat and lay up like a crib line
I'm slamming, on the one
I'm a bad man, you're just a good son, on