Luyện nghe bài hát Sum Shit I Wrote

Marks I like racism, I'm as large as a bigot
Groove is my when I'm bubbly I just kick it
What I need you is understanding that I'm standing
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 like 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 life for his
Dissected, I'm on some hi-tech shit computers want to
Your is Pascal, mine 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, I'm the locksmith
Started a missionary way on my life, the mic I rust like
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 when I like a Z-28
At any rate, brothers gain because I loaned them microphones
couldn't house the shit so they had to rent to own

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

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, then it, I get charged
a nigga in position with the stolen card 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 much too, I do justice to
That's why be like, "Fuck you, fuck you, fuck you!"

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

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

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

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

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 don't see nothing wrong with a little bump and

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

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