Luyện nghe bài hát Sum Shit I Wrote

Marks I erase racism, I'm as large as a bigot
Groove is my escapism I'm bubbly I just kick it
What I from you is understanding that I'm standing
On my own two, down my own crew

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

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

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

Walking down the aisles with styles I freak the
Anti-Nazi I rocks like a Z-28
At any rate, brothers gain because I loaned them microphones
They couldn't the shit so they had to rent to own

It's that, coming from the go rapper
I wanna bone Jada and that hoe Patra
So on and you don't, now come on
Ah on and you don't

Sometime when I'm alone in my room I stare at the
And in the back of my mind I hear a wack-ass
And I catch Alz-rhymers, then it, I get charged
Like a nigga in position with the card the credit

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

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

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

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

Just 'cause you got Adidas with the fat
And the fro make you hip-hop, tou sorry excuse 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 eating cat when 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 life I didn't from watching Tootie
But living in the big
But I still like cause she got big titties

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