Luyện nghe bài hát Testarossa

I'm your Testarosa. gear
Watch me go, keep 'em in
Rumble, young man
won't fumble, muthafukas just crumble
Gaskets crank, rappers get
Stripes get yank, a rank
Won't stop the jock in some car use a lyrical radar
But I'm rolling, the cartel's
For the D's keep
Most Cadillac rappers get and disturb
By the jet black
Me, the Testarosa running it suppose ta
Don't try to get
Cause you might get lost in the exhaust
Don't ever try to fuck wit' a
octane there ain't no ping
When I swing on a lyrical speed
And that's just gear, listen for the upshift
Who can get wit'
I'm your

gear, look it here queer
I'm in here, hitting like
The rhyme cartel legalized dope
Some cope, get (gunshot noises)
Lost on the boss, it's is flawless
12 cylinders to the horses
It accelerates
Move or get move
Run for cover my brother, suckers are smothered
I? cutted? you other? smutters? in the gutter
My rep is kept, must step
The get swept and let out to rest
Huuuu, at that air intake
gear, passing fakes
Revolution per get higher
How can I chill my rhyme's on fire
As I the end of my tach
My lyrical power blows to the max
Red line is reached to the peak of my
And I told ya, I'm Testarosa

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

Up to fourth gear, the increase
Police got wit the word chief
Move or lose, I excuse the wack
You light my fuse and clear out or get
I go 100 in a 55
No to lip synch, I'm straight out live
So I'm rough lust who be tough
You fuss and cuss wearing that Raider's
Fake fools from the way
Knowing well, you ain't from LA
where you come from son, so you rattle
Like it or not, I scream straight up
Rip up wit a lyrical sweet
Don't or creep or you lose your freak
The cam's growl, engine
My tongue keep beating 'em
Rev it up, get ready for
Just hit 'em wit a dis
I roll ya, ya, mold ya, I told ya I control ya
And I'm your
I'm your
Yo Punish, show 'em time it is