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
With Beastie Boys, we can it out
Perpetrators, we can 'em out
So if you got somethin' on mind, let it out

Yo, I been in the game before you was born
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
the year 3000 and beyond
Stay up all night, and I and never die
death is the cousin of sleep

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

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

I have 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 drug

A slug peeler, not, mafioso, no
You got the cutthroat in ya, beginner
I ain't to hear your racket
You work with dog, you snitch, you rat, you wear that jacket

How many rappers 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, and banditos
balls in soup, jackets 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 rappers, and there's still not enough emcees
It three, three, two, two, one, one
MCA, Ad-Rock, Mike D, that's how we get it 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

'Cause the type of lyric goes inside your brain
To blow you bullshit rappers out the frame
My lyrics spin like a hurricane twister
So get your on off of Wolf Blitzer

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

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

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

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

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

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

We come together like peanut butter and
Like pen and paper, like and canvases
stadiums and shitty bars
Go back in time, a fax from my car

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