Luyện nghe bài hát Sum Shit I Wrote

Marks I erase like racism I'm as large as a
Groove is my when I'm bubbly I just kick it
I need from 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 can't hold back a massouse
I get loose like a screw from left right to tight
When it's time for 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 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 is the key, goddammit I'm the locksmith
Started a missionary way on my life, the mic I like bostage
I switch styles like a channel with controls that are
Engage in a page, and with words I
Walking the aisles with styles I freak the viles
Anti-Nazi when I like a Z-28
At any rate, brothers gain interest I loaned them microphones
They couldn't house the shit so they had to to own
It's like that, from the go rapper
I wanna bone Jada Pinkett and that hoe
So keep on, and you don't, now on
Ah on, and you don't

Sometime when I'm alone in my room I at the wall
And in the back of my mind I hear a rhyme
And I catch Alz-rhymers, then it, I get charged
Like a nigga in with the stolen card the credit
flipping the script, the rap scene I'm trying to edit
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 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 be giving us sweet and buying us fruit
Like Kareem I got the hook up, look out because they look
Rest in peace to ?Heavena?, washing tons of like Booker
Tee told me "You gotta get out of the crib, get the world"
How you going to come off with the style thourough?
It's 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 with my rap, rappers I slapbox
I got my rap, now get your glock out the black face
Got tall with 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
You sorry for funk rap
Why is there so cranks trying to rhyme, yo funk that
The real shit's to come back
The Go is I'm from and where I'm at, jack
I started cat when I was 10
dinner I was getting big dog like 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 facts of life I didn't learn from watching
But living in the big city but I still like cause she got big titties
My is steep, I write 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 a good son, come on