Luyện nghe bài hát U Can't Handle This

You if you could but you can't so you ain't

The minute I step in dis bitch, I hear, oh shit, mothafucka,
Watch out for dat nigga, you can't handle 'em for a period of
No one can match those rhymes to mine I'm top of the
Prickin' your ass like a porcupine, I know to do
To knock stupid ass so bad it ain't no challenge this ain't
No mothafuckin' fluke, this pure talent

I'm gifted, explicit mistressed and explicit new home
Same old nigga, I ain't playin' you bitches, why you niggaz
Be rappin' like scared and unprepared, I'm gonna've ya'
Leave this mothafucka sayin' what'd that mothafucka
Gimme the bud, the I puff like Elvis and the Beetles
gets blazed, then a couple soft MC's on pins and needles

Niggaz that got beef with me bring a heater or either bow
Down to me, cut off you dick, Jesus, the reason
I'm fuckin' with niggaz, wasup with dem niggaz, dats shit
You go fuck wit another nigga
U cant this

Oh shit, mothafucka, goddamn, oh shit, mothafucka,
Oh shit, mothafucka, goddamn, oh shit, mothafucka,
Oh shit, mothafucka, goddamn, oh shit, mothafucka,
Oh shit, mothafucka, goddamn, oh shit, mothafucka,

Certified Rhyme Busta, bitch nigga, bitch nigga, nigga
If I'm not nigga, but that nigga from punks still come with
The rif-raf, went gold diggin', to gold chains
I went from Club Train, Ta Soul Train fightin' a Wild Coyote
Like Capone, hot seller, keep your fuckin' deck
Then a bad woodpecker, I don't like niggaz to run up on my shit
And set, I'm the tarantula on the

Bitch I'll kill ya, catch more attention oriental peacocks
Phat rhymes, hot tracks, a room of Reeboks, I've got the gift
That'll make a get off me spent like Charles Barkley so bitch
Don't start me, who's that use to be mobbin' in my hood
Beware, I go, get that boy good, come like, there I was
When were idiots in the cut I raise the hacksaw, you jump back
Now niggaz don't want no trouble, can't stop us

Oh shit, mothafucka, goddamn, oh shit, mothafucka,
Oh shit, mothafucka, goddamn, oh shit, mothafucka,
Oh shit, mothafucka, goddamn, oh shit, mothafucka,
Oh shit, mothafucka, goddamn, oh shit, mothafucka,

I know y'all nigga know than to fuck wit the man
Don't ya, don't ya, don't you know what my style can't be poached
And every nigga around, probably got wit somebody but that's
The same between the fighters, I ain't got it I ain't got it
When underground rules, will be the day my legs start to

Another nigga, couldn't off throw me on skates, I'm the
The gasoline on your fire, got 'em dodge 'em Michael
The drunken fighter niggaz can't do what I do man fuck that, nigga
Now motherfuck you, Lord, the Rhymes come through
So bitch, I got it if you bad enuff to take it, it's yours

A lyrical ass whoopin' is what I'm cookin' hungry, all over
Your room when you wasn't lookin' no canibus
The nigga, with da mess you get the flatback like Rambo bitch
You handle this

Oh shit, mothafucka, goddamn, oh shit, mothafucka,
Oh shit, mothafucka, goddamn, oh shit, mothafucka,
Oh shit, mothafucka, goddamn, oh shit, mothafucka,
Oh shit, mothafucka, goddamn, oh shit, mothafucka,