Luyện nghe bài hát Sum Shit I Wrote

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

Toe cancer, I'm bad to the bone too, I'm prone to off
When I'm off that Cognac, I hold back like a masseuse
I get loose like a turned from 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 hi-tech shit computers want to bite
Your style is Pascal, is Basic and just instinct
I'm with the fam and ran scams, me and Murray got up on big

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

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

It's like that, from the go rapper
I wanna Jada Pinkett 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 I stare at the wall
And in the back of my I hear a wack-ass rhyme
And I Alz-rhymers, then forget it, I get charged
Like a nigga in position with the stolen the credit

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

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

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

My foundation is in black block of niggas that they hat cock
I'm real like a with my rap, rappers I slap box
Back I got my rap, now get your out the black face
Got tall flavor 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 excuse for funk rap
Why is there so many trying to rhyme, yo funk that
The real shit's to come back

The go is where I'm and where I'm at, jack
I started eating cat I was 10
Before dinner I was getting big dog Glen Robinson
I see nothing wrong with a little bump and grind

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

My style is steep, I write rhymes on the
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 son, come on