Luyện nghe bài hát We Do It For Fun Pt 3.5

At first I was okay, and then I was straight
Hit and hoes fell in love with my face
Upped my and then ya boy got nasty
Flow on overdrive, now these niggas can't me
de la creme, who him? Nigga him
J-O-K-E-R is on top a chim but
No santa clause, we grinchin here
Even white hoods love me, no legend here
Messages on myspace like you good
It's cause I go off like ADT in the hood
Yo flow shake but my flow is seizure
I run a lot of shit nickel magnesia
You be high, Joker smokin like reefer
But sleepin on me, icksnay (pig latin) anesthesia
Room guns, berettas, I am known to 'em
Leave a nigga stankin overexertion
To all my haters... fuck 'em, 'em
I drop so hits, other rappers call me worrisome
they try to steal from my book of rhymes
Now see, that's straight pussy like the Of Dimes
It's obvious, like we all Marsha fine
the game missionary, I'm on top of mine
If you not my clientele, you even get the weed sale
Trust no like a heart broken female
Co-ed FTE to the hotel, she shall a lot of beats
my mutha fuckin g mail
Bitch BYOTCH, money is
Only reason you don't know cause Forbes don't acknowledge
Joker's mediocre, everybody else is
in hell drinkin on a glass of water
Dope boy magic, kitchen potter
I help move weight, of an exwatter
I'm on the grind just like dry raw
Nigga I'm surprised I caught something
suck nonhesitation no delay
Famous dick, I'm a sell my pubic hairs on
the highest bider so I can get with her
First well drink, and I'll split her
we do the do, hell yea I did her
Now I'm with her I'm a let JR hit her
be a friend, introduce her to my boys...
She's need an altoid
Hit the club 17, plus my ID
Came home with a lot of hoes and my thoughts
J Cole tell 'em I ain't been a busta
If real was a disease, I'd be a dead mutha
I so much money so savin ain't my plan
And I blow so much cake that the candles don't
Ice to my cock, damn near at my leg
So bitches gotta bobsled just to give me
El Presedinto, dance for me why you
Call the bitch my new car I a lof of bills on her
Awww skeet I won't for saint pete
I'm tryna blow up big like peak
I got hoes on deck, I want want
And I fuck it so much that I'm
problem, money, mula
Dollars all hoes holla like booyah
Shillings, doubloons, pounds,
No teardrops cause killers on my payroll
I can smell pussy like I used to at Catos
Weave kill in packs, boy wear a halo
See we know that she goes, so no for egos
But you tries and lost like Shack shoots his freethrows
I'm Michael you Tito's, you rappers freeloads
Part two let the clip go and is a reload
I'm gone leave a stain on the game just like
So gone go my way like I was Carlito
So fck what the plan say, I do me no
I'm gone show my black ass like I was in
But I am the teacher, let me sit at my desk, so
I can school this rap game, it's hop chess, and I'm
jumps, and bows all over the rest
Last line no punchline, I AM THE