Luyện nghe bài hát The Lesson Part 1

Lyrically
My rap definition is
I wrote as a juvenile
on deuce trey
And used to boost gray
555 Soul's from the streets
Of the Ill-a-delphiadaic
For gain, niggas is slain on the train
It's
For wealth missions for crack
In the alleyways, where get grazed in the back
stray shots
Clips with hollow tips, for spine or
remain calm, catch a rhyme, to your mind
Niggas ya my style
I run
When Malik get a U-Haul
I stand five, foot seven, in of the party
And scam Uncle Sam
I'm never caught up in the eye
Of your cam, cause I'm down low
Artistic exquisite rap pro, that get the
It's the Philly dread
Thoroughbread for
I bag solo, like a that boost Polo
Steppin the corridor, of metaphors
over my left
Shoulder the mic, still feel than before
With jazz shit I hit your jaw
Dice Raw, get up on the mic, my poor
I be the nigga blowin up the on tour
Surely real to the core, old school eighty-four
I never die, and raps till my collapse
Then relax my knack for tracks
it back, on time
When I my rep remain
Either go against the or your ass is found slain
I overcome, want styles then I throw you some
Show you some, get on the mic and it over son
Dice Raw, the motherfuckin Noid
Get on the mic and in this void

Ya leave niggas missing in action like dads in the projects
My style like an old mac, travel round and catch
I'm ill versatile, with the no more
Wack MC's wanna but their styles they bore
Got to know the real of the ill shit, kid
I do mad but never will catch a bid
With my knapsack, of ill shit that I just boosted
From the corner when I let loose more
Flavor that's me, rippin heads off the seams
didn't play like Jeru and Come Clean
[He heh ha ha ha] I beat down on they like drum machines
Or 808's my style flows out great
And superspectac, all the raw rap
a metal chair out my knapsack across your back ka-crack
Now do you feel the pain of
I guess believin that I'm insane
I'm taggin my name, upon the train I got so much pride
I got so much soul, lyrics high
To make niggas stop drop and roll, now check me out one
For your ass, fat styles
Of an AIDS infected Glock
Niggas know my style, plus they know they want
Props from Mount Vernon, to Rushmore
OK kid, you know my style is buckwild
That you can get when I'm thinkin your particular
Flavor you want
I sit back and smoke a fat blunt in
can kiss my ass, I'm twice, Dice
Nigga de Raw, never take a bad
Smack your up against the wall
Like playin handball, my ill
I slam like Hulk Hogan, Raw bettin on my arm
Niggas know my slogan I breathe your last breath
Niggas better watch they step, fat bull catch
Ill, gots ta you in check
the hellified beats and hard rhymes
Niggas know my style, I go the whole nine
I beat punks, cut em up into fruit chunks
fruit salad, my style's smooth like white owl
Blunts, so whatcha if you got beef then come get it
If ya well then forget it
My rap style's exquisite, I'm Raw
niggas with no Trojans on the stage when I rhyme
I ta keep, my composure
I'm from it's like a whole different world
Hoppin a train honeydip and I'mma snatch your
Most corrupt, motherfucker in the grade
Juvenile cause Jeff could not fade
Don't ask me honey I'm not the one for
If you know better ask brother question
Cause he the time like I know the time
I grab the microphone
It's like, summertime, back, to recline
In my La-Z-Boy
Dice Raw, the Wild
I'm the fuck up here