Luyện nghe bài hát What Part of The Game

I'm the greatest rapper in the world, you who to kid man
I slam dunk on your big man
Been rappin for years, crackin them bears, the sound of platinum
Predict future and it's near, my speech is dittly
I bust shots until the heat heavy
bitches until the sheets get sweaty
Beats and melodies, make me blink
I'll pull my shank out, and a warrior's cry
If you down wit my crew, all you die
You can tell I'm real, by in the ball of my eye
I will get some cream from it, one day, your baby and my
Can my some dough on Teem
the loot, fountain the youth, the young God
Here's the thug, like a Marmashad
Some wanna have emotions and me
Put the toast to my kidney, when I speak of them feel me
So, keep my name off ya
my nigga Gruff take the chain off ya chest
All guaranteeing, blaow, take the brain off ya
Off the top of the dough, one shot and blow
wit Panama P.I., guarantee I'll take ya outta ya zone

Ayyo me and my nigga Hais, ride, lay
Case ya try to play Zeus, got the deuce
Hidin right inside the bubble, goose
Not to quickly to to make news
I'ma ace deuce, caught cases, I got Gotti and O.J.
And my crew, you're stackless, very cock now
Phase of Rocky, turn your caviar ass into, um
Chicken teriyaki, Spanish try to front on me
I say papi Rocky, he would of shot me
'Cause I don't care if he or cock D
When I got the glock, B, can't me
And no judicial system could me, try to lock me
papes on mine, Mr. D.A., someone to lace ya dime
And tell P.H. the camera job, come on, that's a waste of mine
'Cause I got my girl Curry, in D.C
the spring court, you know for me, that just scary
How Harlem nigga do, get in the building hurry
Before my girl see, to top, so she can give me one on jury
Says hung, got her sprung, she that I'm young
Her little toy boy, her lick my ass wit a tongue
She's so smart, dumb, but I keep, tomorrow ain't promised
Now I need a one way flight to St. Thomas
And at the time I got a JAG fetish
And who knows, I might bad credit
I can't borrow from niggas I ass
Go to your girl, I pop my truck
Don't make me Flex on you ghetto style Funkmaster

You got money, what it like?
You got crack, what it like?
You got a song, wit the hook
Word is bond, when P.I. hit the microphone, niggas mics
You got crack, what it cook
You got a song, wit the like?
You got some money, what it look
What part of the is that?
You fuck around wit my track, blaow, of the flaming stat

I live the God knowledge, my of life, he read like twice
percent shine, today the grease like, my attribute's like
Paretic chrome, I thrown, it at your dome, blown
It be known, like Sa Salasi clone, connect wit one
Cybernetic, verbal slang, king ebonic
Farad, all of ya dude, rock me Muhammad
I came swift, wit off as the shit, couldn't catch it
Define this, got drawn so swift, detect it
Thug covert, sip Scotch drink, just like an
like the infamous full blown antivirus
Apollus, mad Olympic, fragile
Supreme gymnast, ancient decent, scriptures
Equilibrium, catch me at the Wimbledon, gentlemen
Guess jeans, Wu shirts, construction
nobody wit nothing and your name shall be Nathan
Who you facin, slugs blazin the

Ayyo check it, I to live reckless
Snatch kids necklace, nigga this
A catch this, blaow, trigga specialist
Is your death wish, leave you rib and
Gun ho, real thug, every one know
the Bumjo, to the kids, to Colombo
My niggas locked down doin state, did you
Twenty five to L, on the humble, real thug
Plug shit, catch you, dare fuck wit
Care rugged, from the skulls to the Timb's
your Benz, wit niggas houndin your gems
Yo this jam in your joint
All my thug cruisin wit the mamas on points
wise guys, gritty high guys, pretty mamas
I even make boricua, shake the tatas
Harlem World slugger, watch it explode like Harbor
ma, get a girl's Vodka
And get hotter, slide 'em off, twist 'em proper
Yo I'm a sex fiend, in my 400 hundred Lex' ring
Flex cream, presidential wit Gets gleam

You got money, it look like?
You got crack, what it cook
You got a song, wit the hook
Word is bond, when P.I. hit the microphone, niggas took
You got crack, it cook like?
You got a song, wit the like?
You got money, what it look like?
part of the game is that?
You fuck around wit my track, blaow, part of the flaming

You got money, what it like?
You got crack, it cook like?
You got a song, wit the hook
Word is bond, P.I. hit the microphone, niggas took mics
You got crack, it cook like?
You got a song, wit the like?
You got some money, what it look
What part of the is that?
You fuck around wit my track, blaow, of the flaming stat