Luyện nghe bài hát Sum Shit I Wrote

Marks I erase racism, I'm as large as a bigot
Groove is my escapism when I'm I just kick it
What I need from you is understanding 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 a screw 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 some hi-tech shit computers want to
Your style is Pascal, is Basic and just 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 like a channel with controls that are remote
Engage in a page and with I elope

Walking the aisles with styles I freak the viles
Anti-Nazi when I rocks like a
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 wanna bone Jada Pinkett and that hoe
So keep on and you don't, now on
Ah keep on and you

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

Fuck flipping the script, the rap scene I'm trying to
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, you, fuck you!"

Other studs come to see what I am up to
They be on the dick of crew that be us sweet and buying us fruit
Like Kareem I got the up, brothers look out because they look
Rest in peace to 'Heavena', washing 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 that's
It's that, keep on, ha ha
It's like that, on

My is in black block of niggas that rock they hat cock
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 flavor with fat taste, the rat race is a rat race

Just 'cause you got with the fat laces
And the fro make you hip-hop, tou sorry excuse for funk rap
Why is there so many cranks trying to rhyme, yo funk
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 dinner I was getting big dog like Robinson
I don't see nothing wrong with a little and grind

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

My style is steep, I write rhymes on the
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