Luyện nghe bài hát True Fuschnick

I don't grow up cuz I'm a True Fuschnick
We got a million styles that we
we can play with
I'm a True what? I am a True
3X
So sit sit what lyrical styles should we kick?
I'm a rowdy roddy piper I flash my sherlock Holmes
The thicker the richer the the dread
So I need no honeycomb
So eeney meeney miney mo goobelly goo I bumped my toe
Oh-oh, "oh-oh better get Maoco" chocolate Chip's to flow
The the cola the fraja the listic expialadope Chip
When the mic is in ridobidobip bip da be bong de dang, Bo!
Cuz worries and boderations when i it up again and again But not
with the FU style I'm wicked and wild and versatile
the mic is gripped by Chip you better believe it's worth your

Pause for the cause stop make way up
I come come come
My styles are not to ifos nos in other words
They're not son rocks it rigade raggamuffin say it backwards
Aggarniffum so abra Fu run come follow me man
Put it by one phenomenon huminahumina I'm not
oh my hello hello hi
I'm not Finn I'm still speaking, shoo, fly
bother i
So Fe hello hifi Fu fo, i shapes with Pay-dough re me
Near far then I will sew Lipton Tea bo Tae Kwon Do
are bubbling, bubbling, bubbling, bubbling, bubbling,
bubbling,*bubbling,*bubbling,*bubbling,*bubbling,*bubbling,*bubbling,
bubbling til' boiled
So don't drink the milk, Cause it's rotten in other words it's

So don't say drats, drats or triple or quadruple drats
Me big and me black and me hot up de spot G jumping
mic's rhymes ain't saying jack nor Jill
and of my styles peak-a-boo o what I
doo wa diddy dum diddy FU
So to his FU, peace to the FU
And a FU, Poc Fu, is what I dub you
I'm a True, what I am a True
3X
So sit, Buddah, sit lyrical styles should we kick?
Rock n' roll, roll!
up with hip-hop, reggae, let's kick some soul
I'll be a braveman like Captain
bunga, yapple-daple
oh, snap! Holy batfu, an apple
The capital P.O.C. is on a so hip, hip hooray
out my way
Check out I cockadoodle doo
See it's I needed psychiatric help
When I was small I had "Poc-Fu" on my nameplate
Then at last suffering I waste no more time
Used my noodle yankee came up with a rhyme
was wild, bugged, delirious, looney
Damn! it's hard
word to Jerry Cooney
Knocking off shoulders rippin' em clean
you can even ask iddy (why?) he know what I
Cuz I'm a
I'm a True, what? I am a True
3X
So sit, Buddah sit what lyrical should we kick?
Moc's on wax grip, this no demo
Don't even try to flex or with my
contender, Apollo
Time for training,
Agenda. The M.O. also the Mack
In I will attract, shock shit, a True Fuschnick
as I crop to the crip
Not a to the limit, upset, confused,
you gotta
From the excess food called
But a taste of True Fu
No as I pace
gogoo, nanoo-nanoo
Styles that'll have you a Fuschnick too
Psyche!
Wait a minute, you thought that I was
Beginnin' in a hum endin' in a drum

You like it, it's comin' from the Tribe, side by
stage is the Moc
Unifying lyrics until my drops
Considered as an mc
Techniques be beat, you think so?
Hell, no!
Romp and rage upon the scene like a
Ninja
Crazy zany voiced out
that had ya in a dimension as I
A True Fu
All to the Micken
that I am kickin', whippin', flexin, never flippin
Asian that is hittin' hard until my cup over
Like a boulder never ya
The M.O. was in of
Oriental styles to or get with
Fiend as I hold the mic a tight grip
Slipped!
Ha, ha, ha!
That's what you get when you mess with a True Fuschnick
I'm a True, what? I am a True
3X
So sit, Buddah, sit what styles should we kick