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, down my own crew

Toe cancer, I'm bad to the bone too, I'm to snap off
I'm off that Cognac, I can't 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 some hi-tech computers want to bite
Your style is Pascal, mine is Basic and just
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 rust bostage
I switch styles like a channel with controls that are
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 because I loaned them microphones
They couldn't house the so they had to rent to own

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

Sometime when I'm alone in my room I stare at the
And in the back of my mind I a wack-ass rhyme
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 to edit
My call me, "Never", they be like, "Never's going to get it"
Never's too much, I'm too, I do justice to poetics
why cats be like, "Fuck you, fuck you, fuck 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, brothers out because they look
in peace to 'Heavena', washing tons of rappers like Booker

Tee me, "You gotta get out of the crib, get into the world"
How you to come off with the style that's through?
like 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 with my rap, rappers I slap box
Back I got my rap, now get your glock out the black
Got flavor with fat taste, the rat race is a rat race

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

The go is I'm from and where I'm at, jack
I started cat when I was 10
Before dinner I was big dog like Glen 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 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 fat nuts 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