Luyện nghe bài hát Sum Shit I Wrote

Marks I erase like racism I'm as as a bigot
is my escapism when I'm bubbly I just kick it
What I need from you is understanding that I'm
On my own two with my own crew
Toe cancer I'm bad to the bone too I'm to snap off
When I'm off that Cognac I hold back like a massouse
I get loose like a turned from left right to tight
When 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 to bite
Your style is Pascal, is Basic and just instinct
I'm the fam and ran scams, me and Murray got up on big links
And if knowledge is the key, goddammit I'm the
a missionary way on my life, the mic I rust like bostage
I switch styles like a with controls that are remote
Engage in a page, and with I elope
Walking down the aisles with styles I freak the
when I rocks like a Z-28
At any rate, brothers gain because I loaned them microphones
They couldn't house the shit so had to rent to own
It's that, coming from the go rapper
I wanna bone Jada and that hoe Patra
So keep on, and you don't, now on
Ah keep on, and you

Sometime when I'm in my room 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
a nigga in position with the stolen card the credit
Fuck the script, the rap scene I'm trying to edit
My call 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 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 and buying us fruit
Like Kareem I got the up, brothers look out because they look
in peace to ?Heavena?, washing tons 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 style thourough?
It's that, keep on, ha ha
It's like that, on

My foundation is in black of niggas that rock they hat cock
I'm real like a fight with my rap, rappers I
Back I got my rap, now get glock out the black face
Got tall flavor 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 trying to rhyme, yo funk that
The real shit's starting to come
The Go is where I'm from and where I'm at,
I eating cat when I was 10
Before dinner I was big dog like Glen Robinson
I don't see nothing with a little bump and grind
But comes a 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 Tootie cause she got big
My style is steep, I write rhymes on the
Splat guts plus fat nuts and lay up like a crib
I'm slamming, on the one
I'm a bad man, you're a good son, come on