Luyện nghe bài hát The Mic's My Piece

** intro/skit **

[maestro fresh
I'm a ruler, that's how I
I do to rap what the mona does to the frame
Rid 'em and written, my rhymes are rodeo
I ain't kiddin', they my portfolio
it wise, hit the studio
Rock international, now they me julio
Mcs died, becuase I have killed them
Some older me but yet children
Some knew the fear
Because rap is not a joke, this game's for
Sucker cuss me, females rush me
I off the set, my homeboys they touch me
Wes, you ate 'em up like a
No need to use an uzi, the mic's my piece

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

[maestro wes]
Some use a uzi, some a
You wanna fresh wes, well I'm ready
The mind is a magnum, the is a bullet
The mic a trigger *bang* 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 like decked liston

Where did the punch from?
Was it before, or the drum
Ltd be the referee
'punk tell me how many fingers you see'
The m-i-c is my
The maestro no mc
Like a beast I beat while my rhymes
I can say *bang* my mic's my
A bag of lsd and my dj needles
Lyrical dope my group feeble
Zero degrees centigrade, thirty-two
Cold getting paid if a parasite
Paraphrase, to parallel you're
You're paranoid, you play my record, you
I paragon, the paramont
Lyrical ? ? ? ? ? ? can't handle this
Move, you might get
There's a method ot my madness, don't mock my
I'm like a beast when my released, like a sayss(? )
'cause my mic's my piece

[maestro wes]
I walk around town looking at clowns
Thinking my cold crisp build to brown
I sweat the clown, this is what I mean
I'm not american, my hundred dollar ain't green
I'm from of the border, keep it in order
Beats the freak from the latin quarter
Though I'm down with the t-o
I hang with no polo team
No charade, a I'm here to envade
X-rate, excess, escalate this
I fancy girl she don't exist
Exercise the dip, watch the
Extreme 360, necks snap
She wrote my rhythmn, received the
Executed, extracted, she's
To the maestro, uhh,
In distress, hyperactive
Be jocking and jacking, you must be wack kid
That's why the sultan to rap
The aftermath, the of paragraph
Every title you held been off
Love torn ego a busted up lip
When I start firing I cease
I get hyped, when *bang* the my piece

[maestro wes]

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

Some carry knives some carry
2000 in the channel trying to be number one
Looking serious, posing
You rub shoulders, step on toes and it's over
You might get
? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ?
Too many want to brawl, I I heard it all
Hip hop kept niggas alive, prefer to ball
want to party, but some do
I propagate against one of the brothers from my high
Real sad funeral, ask any
I speak know this this quadruple
Some minds are so shallow, roads are so
Follow my ? ? ? ? before you're blunt like
The mic is my weapon, it I ain't messing
No stepping, I'm progressing
Even I die these lyrics will last
So roll over bethoveen 'cause the blastin'
pen another gay, I leave you in awe
This array could bust an
I'm the maestro, my symphony cease
Too damn hype! *bang* the mic's my piece