Luyện nghe bài hát The Mic's My Piece

** skipped **

[maestro wes]
I'm a ruler, that's how I
I do to rap what the mona lisa does to the
Rid 'em and written, my are like rodeo
I ain't kiddin', they jock my
it wise, hit the studio
Rock international, now they call me
Mcs have died, I have killed them
older than me but yet children
Some veterans the fear
Because rap is not a joke, this game's for
boys cuss me, females rush me
When I off the set, my homeboys they me
Wes, you ate 'em up like a
No to use an uzi, when the mic's my piece

"bang on"
"i'm mc"
"bang on"
"i'm mc"
"bang on"
"i'm mc"
** by dj ltd **

[maestro fresh
use a uzi, some a machete
You test fresh wes, well I'm ready
The is a magnum, the rhyme is a bullet
The mic that's a trigger and I pull it
Too late for prayer, dee is a
Wes rocks the mics like a to isaiah
The player, the pimp mcs are risking
You'll get decked clay decked liston

Where did the punch come
Was it before, or after the
Ltd will be the
Saying 'punk tell me how fingers you see'
The m-i-c is my
The needs no mc
Like a beast I beat my rhymes release
I can say *bang* my my piece
A bag of lsd and my dj does
Lyrical dope my group ain't
degrees centigrade, thirty-two farenheit
Cold getting if you're a parasite
Paraphrase, to you're paralyze
You're paranoid, you play my record, you
I paragon, the vocabulist
Lyrical ? ? ? ? ? ? paragraph handle this
Move, you might get
a method ot my madness, don't mock my monologue
I'm like a beast when my rhyme's released, a sayss(? )
*bang* 'cause my my piece

[maestro wes]
I walk around town looking at clowns
about my cold crisp build to brown
I sweat the coloured clown, this is what I
I'm not american, my hundred bill ain't green
I'm from of the border, keep it in order
like the freak from the latin quarter
Though I'm down the t-o scene
I hang with no polo team
No charade, a parade I'm here to
X-rate, excess, escalate escapade
I fancy girl like she don't
Exercise the dip, the exorcist
360, necks will snap
She wrote my rhythmn, received the
Executed, extracted, she's
To the maestro, uhh,
In distress, she's
Be jocking and jacking, you must be wack kid
why allow the sultan to rap
The aftermath, the of paragraph
Every title you held stripped off
Love torn ego a busted up lip
I start firing I never cease
I get hyped, when *bang* the my piece

[maestro wes]

Like franklin, columbo, I'm
I can run so low, try to my status
they know how long I've been at this
Call me a new jack, a dis
New jacks rock like this
That's to me, don't say a word to me
I'm t-o that's why you dun heard of me
Yesterday, but now you're
'cause I'm exploding nitroglycerine
If I was from new
I know you would, rocked to my rhythmn, five years ago
I had to try a little harder than the
Just to get a break, but now I'm doing
Think you're a star, sorry charlie
Got beef? to farley
'cause what I is a masterpiece
Dope rhymes are released the mic's my piece

Some carry knives carry guns
2000 in the channel trying to be number one
Looking serious, flexing
You rub shoulders, on toes and it's *bang* over
You get shafted
? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ?
Too many want to brawl, I I heard it all
Hip hop kept niggas alive, gave to ball
Some want to party, but do
I propagate one of the brothers from my high school
Real sad funeral, ask any
I know this before this quadruple
Some are so shallow, roads are so narrow
my ? ? ? ? before you're blunt like pharoah
The mic is my weapon, with it I messing
No stepping, I'm progressing
Even when I die these lyrics last
So roll over bethoveen 'cause the b-boy's
pen another gay, I leave you in awe
This array could an orchestra
I'm the maestro, my symphony can't
Too damn hype! *bang* the mic's my piece