Luyện nghe bài hát True Fuschnick

I don't wanna 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 Buddah sit lyrical styles should we kick?
I'm a roddy piper I flash my dread sherlock Holmes
The thicker the the bigger the dread
So I don't no honeycomb
So eeney miney mo good goobelly goo I bumped my toe
Oh-oh, "oh-oh better get Maoco" chocolate Chip's about to
The super the cola the the listic expialadope Chip
When the mic is gripped in bip da be bong de dang, Bo!
Cuz worries and boderations i raps it up again and again But not
with the FU style I'm wicked and wild and versatile
When the mic is gripped by Chip you better believe worth your

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

So don't say drats, drats double or or quadruple drats
Me big and me black and me hot up de spot G jumping
Some mic's ain't saying jack nor Jill
and of my they peak-a-boo o what I
doo wa diddy diddy dum 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 what styles should we kick?
n' roll, rock'n roll!
What's up with hip-hop, reggae, let's kick soul
I'll be a braveman like Caveman
bunga, yapple-daple
oh, snap! Holy batfu, it's an
The capital P.O.C. is on a fliptop so hip, hip
out my way
Check out I cockadoodle doo
See it's I needed psychiatric help
When I was I had "Poc-Fu" on my nameplate belt
Then at last suffering succotash I waste no time
Used my noodle yankee came up with a rhyme
was wild, bugged, delirious, looney
Damn! it's hittin'
word to Jerry Cooney
Knocking heads off shoulders em clean
you can ask iddy (why?) he know what I mean
Cuz I'm a
I'm a True, I am a True Fuschnick
3X
So sit, Buddah sit what lyrical styles we kick?
Moc's on wax grip, this ain't no
Don't even try to flex or with my
Mental contender,
for training, jack
Agenda. The M.O. also the Mack
In fact I attract, shock shit, a True Fuschnick
Classified as I to the crip
Not a to the limit, upset, confused,
you want
the excess food called waste
But a of oriental True Fu
No haste as I
gogoo, nanoo-nanoo
Styles that'll you becomin' a Fuschnick too
Psyche!
Wait a minute, you thought that I was
Beginnin' in a hum in a beat drum

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