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 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 Cognac, I can't hold back like a masseuse
I get loose like a screw turned left right to tight
When it's time for 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 to bite
Your is Pascal, mine 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, I'm the locksmith
Started a missionary way on my life, the mic I rust bostage
I switch styles like a channel controls that are remote
Engage in a page and with words I

Walking down the aisles with 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 shit so they had to to own

It's that, coming from the go rapper
I wanna bone Jada 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 room I stare at the
And in the of my mind I hear a wack-ass rhyme
And I Alz-rhymers, then forget it, I get charged
Like a in position with the stolen card the credit

Fuck the script, the rap scene I'm trying to edit
My mellows me, "Never", they be like, "Never's going to get it"
too much, I'm much too, I do justice to poetics
That's why cats be like, "Fuck you, fuck you, 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 told me, "You get out of the crib, get into the world"
How you going to come off with the that's through?
It's that, keep on, ha ha
It's that, keep on

My is in black block of niggas that rock they hat cock
I'm real like a fight with my rap, I slap box
I got my rap, now get your glock out the black face
Got tall 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 sorry for funk rap
Why is there so many trying to rhyme, yo funk that
The real starting to come back

The go is where I'm from and I'm at, jack
I started eating cat I was 10
dinner 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 from watching Tootie
But living in the big
But I still like Tootie she got big titties

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