Luyện nghe bài hát Too Many Rappers

Mic check, mic

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

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

Yo, I been in the game since before you was
I might be emceein' 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
Until the 3000 and beyond
Stay up all night, and I emcee and die
'Cause death is the of sleep

Because I'm back with a bang boogie, oogie
Strawberry 23 like Shuggie
Oh, my God, just at me
Grandpa been rappin' '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 rappers, they're rappin' like crabs

I have blanche, the vagabond
Nas is the narcissist, my are rotund
I'm no killa, but to you, I'm more real'a
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 ain't tryin' to your racket
You work with dog, you snitch, you rat, you wear that jacket

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

Like rum in mojitos, bullets and
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

go! One, one, two, two, three, 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 done

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

'Cause this the type of lyric goes inside your
To blow you bullshit straight out the frame
My lyrics spin round like a hurricane
So get your hologram on off of Blitzer

Too rappers to shake a stick 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 coming whack

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

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

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

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

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

We come together peanut butter and sandwiches
Like pen and paper, Picasso and canvases
stadiums and shitty 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 Boys, we can turn it out
Perpetrators, we can 'em out
So if you got on your mind, let it out