Luyện nghe bài hát Sum Shit I Wrote

Marks I erase racism I'm as large as a bigot
Groove is my escapism I'm bubbly I just kick it
What I from you is understanding that I'm standing
On my own two down my own crew
Toe cancer I'm bad to the too I'm prone to snap off
When I'm off that Cognac I can't hold back a massouse
I get loose like a turned from left right to tight
When it's 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 want to bite
Your style is Pascal, mine is Basic and 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 rust bostage
I switch styles like a channel with controls that are
Engage in a page, and words I elope
down the aisles with styles I freak the viles
Anti-Nazi I rocks like a Z-28
At any rate, brothers gain interest 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 bone Jada Pinkett and that 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 at the wall
And in the back of my mind I hear a wack-ass
And I Alz-rhymers, then forget it, I get charged
Like a nigga in position with the 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"
Never's too much, I'm much too, I do justice to
That's why be like "Fuck you, fuck you, fuck you!"
studs come through to see what 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 told me "You get out of the crib, get into the world"
How you going to come off with the style that's
It's that, keep on, ha ha
like that, keep on

My foundation is in black block of niggas that rock they hat
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 flavor fat taste, the rat race is a rat race
Just cause you got with the fat laces and the fro don't make you hip-hop
You excuse for funk rap
Why is there so many cranks to rhyme, yo funk that
The shit's starting to come back
The Go is where I'm from and where I'm at,
I started eating cat I was 10
Before I was getting big dog like Glen Robinson
I don't see nothing wrong with a little bump and
But comes a when you gotta get off of that booty
The facts of life I didn't from watching Tootie
But in the big city but I still like Tootie cause she got big titties
My style is steep, I rhymes on the incline
Splat guts plus fat 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