Luyện nghe bài hát What Part of The Game

I'm the greatest rapper in the world, you who to kid man
I will slam on your big man
rappin for years, crackin them bears, the sound of platinum chairs
Predict cash and it's near, my speech is dittly
I bust shots the heat gets heavy
Fuck bitches 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 lookin in the 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 emotions and kill me
Put the toast to my kidney, I speak most of them feel me
So, my name off ya breath
my nigga Gruff take the chain off ya chest
All guaranteeing, blaow, take the off ya neck
Off the top of the dough, one and you'll blow
Fuckin wit Panama P.I., guarantee I'll ya outta ya zone

me and my nigga Hais, ride, lay loose
Case ya try to Zeus, got the tray deuce
Hidin right inside the bubble, face
Not to to make to make news
ace deuce, caught cases, I got Gotti and O.J. juice
And my crew, you're stackless, very cock now
of every Rocky, turn your caviar ass into, um
Chicken teriyaki, Spanish try to front on me
I say papi Rocky, wish he of shot me
'Cause I don't care if he or cock D
When I got the glock, B, can't me
And no system could affix me, try to lock me
Over on mine, Mr. D.A., someone to lace ya dime
And P.H. that 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 do, get in the building bitch hurry
Before my girl see, back to top, so she can give me one on
Says hung, got her sprung, she fell that I'm
Her little toy boy, make her my ass wit a tongue
She's so smart, dumb, but I keep, tomorrow ain't promised
Now I might 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 from niggas I ass betted
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 cook
You got a song, wit the hook
Word is bond, when P.I. hit the microphone, took mics
You got crack, what it like?
You got a song, wit the like?
You got some money, it look like?
What part of the game is
You fuck around wit my track, blaow, part of the flaming

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

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

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

You got money, what it look
You got crack, what it like?
You got a song, wit the hook
is bond, when 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, part of the flaming