Luyện nghe bài hát Sum Shit I Wrote

Marks I erase like I'm as large as a bigot
Groove is my when I'm bubbly I just kick it
What I need from you is understanding I'm standing
On my own two down with my own
Toe I'm bad to the bone too I'm prone to snap off
When I'm off that Cognac I can't hold back like a
I get loose like a turned 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 for his wife
Dissected I'm on hi-tech shit computers want to bite
style 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
a missionary way on my life, the mic I rust like bostage
I switch styles like a channel with controls are remote
Engage in a page, and with words I
Walking the aisles with styles I freak the viles
Anti-Nazi I rocks like a Z-28
At any rate, brothers gain interest because I loaned microphones
They couldn't house the shit so had to rent to own
like that, coming from the go rapper
I wanna Jada Pinkett and that hoe Patra
So keep on, and you don't, now on
Ah on, and you don't

Sometime when I'm alone in my I stare at the wall
And in the back of my I hear a wack-ass rhyme
And I catch Alz-rhymers, forget it, I get charged
Like a nigga in with the stolen card the credit
Fuck the script, the rap scene I'm trying to edit
My mellows call me "Never", they be "Never's going to get it"
Never's too much, I'm much too, I do to poetics
That's why cats be "Fuck you, fuck you, fuck you!"
studs come through to see what I am up to
They be on the dick of crew that be giving us sweet and us fruit
Like Kareem I got the hook up, brothers look out they look
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 like that, on, ha ha
It's that, keep on

My foundation is in black block of niggas that rock they hat
I'm real like a fight my rap, rappers I slapbox
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 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 many cranks trying to rhyme, yo that
The real starting to come back
The Go is I'm from and where I'm at, jack
I started eating cat I was 10
Before I was getting big dog like Glen Robinson
I don't see nothing with a little bump and grind
But comes a time when you gotta get off of that
The facts of life I learn from watching Tootie
But living in the big city but I still Tootie cause she got big titties
My style is steep, I write rhymes on the
Splat guts plus fat nuts and lay up a crib line
I'm slamming, on the one
I'm a bad man, you're just a good son, on