Luyện nghe bài hát Testarossa

I'm Testarosa. First gear
Watch me go, keep 'em in
Rumble, young man
Brother won't fumble, muthafukas just
Gaskets crank, rappers get
Stripes get yank, a rank
Won't the jock in some American car use a lyrical radar
But I'm rolling, the tolling
For the D's folding
Most Cadillac rappers get and disturb
By the jet black
Me, the Testarosa running like it ta
Don't try to get
Cause you get lost in the dual exhaust
Don't ever try to wit' a boss
High octane there ain't no
I swing on a lyrical speed king
And just first gear, listen for the upshift
Who can get wit'
I'm your

Second gear, look it here
I'm in here, hitting like
The rhyme slings legalized dope
Some cope, get (gunshot noises)
Lost on the boss, finish is flawless
12 cylinders listen to the
It smooth
or else get move
Run for cover my brother, are getting smothered
I? you other? smutters? rammed in the gutter
My rep is kept, muthafukas step
The get swept and let out to rest
Huuuu, look at that air
gear, passing fakes
Revolution per get higher
How can I when my rhyme's on fire
As I the end of my tach
My lyrical horse blows to the max
Red is reached to the peak of my speech
And I told ya, I'm Testarosa

Gear number three, get off the clutch and let 'em up
Keep 'em all down on these young
Let 'em know big boss is just a bit
Get the
Backtalk none, son
Left you at the gun when I hit one
Now I'm in third and you that's quick
Huh, wait till I hit
Me and my pack, we plenty of snackpacks
You fat now I'm yo to the max
Mix-A-Lot for your next attack
Hey, yo, mass, yea, I got your gat
Two sixty pounds of pure pain
mass is my homeboy's name
My personal trainer, weight gainer
Got the bulk to and contain ya
On the tach, I'm a wind ax
Cutting up air like Boeings
Time to shift and let my seatbelt hold ya
I'm Testarosa

Up to fourth gear, the increase
Police got beef wit the chief
or lose, I excuse the wack dudes
You light my and clear out or get used
I go 100 in a 55
No to lip synch, I'm straight out live
So I'm rough lust who wanna be
You fuss and cuss wearing that stuff
Fake from around the way
damn well, you ain't from LA
Ashamed where you come from son, so you
Like it or not, I straight up Seattle
Rip up streets wit a sweet
Don't or creep or you lose your freak
The cam's growl, loud
My tongue keep 'em down
Rev it up, get for fifth
Just hit 'em wit a dis
I roll ya, fold ya, mold ya, I ya I control ya
And I'm your
I'm your
Yo Punish, show 'em what it is