Luyện nghe bài hát Too Many Rappers

Mic check, mic

One, one, two, two, three,
Too many rappers, and there's not enough emcees
It three, three, two, two, one, one
MCA, Ad-Rock, Mike D, how we get it done like

and gents attention, Nas in the house
With Boys, we can turn it out
Perpetrators, we can 'em out
So if you got somethin' on mind, let it out

Yo, I been in the since before you was born
I still be emceein' even after you're gone
Strange thought, I know, but my skills grow
The 80's, the 90's, 2000's, and so

On and on the crack of dawn
the year 3000 and beyond
Stay up all night, and I and never die
death is the cousin of sleep

Because I'm with a bang boogie, oogie oogie
Strawberry 23 like Shuggie
Oh, my God, look at me
Grandpa been since '83

Oh, I'm supersonic J.J. Fad
Got crazy ass pullin' out the bag
Don't forget the tartar sauce, yo, it's sad
All these crap rappers, they're rappin' like

I have carte blanche, the
Nas is the narcissist, my are rotund
I'm no killa, but compared to you, I'm more
You ain't a shot, a mobster, or a dealer

A peeler, you're not, mafioso, no
You ain't got the cutthroat in ya,
I ain't tryin' to your racket
You with police dog, you snitch, you rat, you wear that jacket

How rappers must get dissed
eight bars, and watch me bless this
I to reminisce, oh, when I miss
The real hip hop with which I

Like rum in mojitos, bullets and
balls in soup, jackets and troop
Yes, y'all, this is one for the history
Nasty Nas, the word, count it off on the hook

go! One, one, two, two, three, three
Too many rappers, and there's still not emcees
It three, three, two, two, one, one
MCA, Ad-Rock, Mike D, that's how we get it done

and gents attention, Nas in the house
With Boys, we can turn it out
Perpetrators, we can 'em out
So if you got on your mind, let it out

'Cause this the of lyric goes inside your brain
To blow you rappers straight out the frame
My lyrics round like a hurricane twister
So get hologram on off of Wolf Blitzer

Too many rappers to shake a at
I outta charge a tax for every rap
I had to to 'cause we be makin' stacks
Like Stax Records, my squad we gotta pack, we never coming

To all you crab rappers and
And Circuit Fenders, splendor
I the cake, I stole the mold

The microphone, well that's mine to hold
And why all these biters all up in my crotch
Sniffin', puffin', huffin', and mean muggin' a Blimpie Bluffin
Back up off me, sucka, you sayin' nothin'

I'm broader than Broadway, I was in project
Dual recorder, lacin' oratorials all day
I'm just getting started on this beat, is foreplay
And when this finished, y'all can sing along with this

By the way, I have a strong for Christian Louboutin steppers
I hear Russian blonde's the
But anyway, I better pay to my fellas
And what's on my mind and the rhyme, who's next up?

Mike D, the man of
History in the makin', and now we're
Titles, awards, and
Scarin' the as I sharpen my blades

We together like peanut butter and sandwiches
Like pen and paper, like and canvases
Rockin' stadiums and bars
Go back in time, send a fax my car

One, one, two, two, three,
Too rappers, and there's still not enough emcees
It three, three, two, two, one, one
MCA, Ad-Rock, Mike D, how we get it done like

Ladies and gents attention, Nas in the
With Beastie Boys, we can it out
Perpetrators, we can 'em out
So if you got somethin' on mind, let it out