Luyện nghe bài hát Sum Shit I Wrote

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

Toe cancer, I'm bad to the too, I'm prone to snap off
When I'm off that Cognac, I can't hold like a masseuse
I get loose like a turned from left right to tight
When it's 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
style 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 is the key, goddammit I'm the locksmith
Started a missionary way on my life, the mic I like bostage
I styles like a channel with controls that are remote
Engage in a page and with words I

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

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

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

Fuck flipping the script, the rap 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 justice to
That's why be like, "Fuck you, fuck you, fuck you!"

Other come through to see what I am up to
be on the dick of crew that be giving us sweet and buying 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 to come off with the style that's through?
It's that, keep on, ha ha
It's that, keep on

My foundation is in black block of that rock they hat cock
I'm real like a fight 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 you hip-hop, tou sorry excuse for funk rap
Why is there so many trying to rhyme, yo funk that
The real shit's starting to back

The go is where I'm from and I'm at, jack
I started cat when I was 10
Before I was getting big dog like Glen Robinson
I don't see nothing wrong a little bump and grind

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

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