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, that's how we get it like

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

Yo, I been in the since before you was born
I might still be even after you're gone
Strange thought, I know, but my still 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 emcee and die
'Cause death is the of sleep

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

Oh, I'm supersonic J.J. Fad
Got ass shit pullin' out the bag
forget the tartar sauce, yo, 'cause it's sad
All these crap rappers, they're rappin' like

I carte blanche, the vagabond
Nas is the narcissist, my pockets are
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 in ya, beginner
I tryin' to hear your racket
You work with police dog, you snitch, you rat, you wear that

How many must get dissed
eight bars, and watch me bless this
I start to reminisce, oh, I miss
The real hip hop which I persist

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

Let's go! One, one, two, two, 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

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

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

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

To all you crab rappers and
And Circuit Fenders, two-tone
I take the cake, I the mold

The golden microphone, well that's mine to
And why all these all up in my crotch space?
Sniffin', puffin', huffin', and mean with a Blimpie Bluffin
up off me, sucka, you ain't sayin' nothin'

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

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

D, the man of mystery
History in the makin', and now takin'
Titles, awards, and
Scarin' the as I sharpen my blades

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

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

Ladies and 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