Luyện nghe bài hát What You Got

Y'all niggaz make a nigga like me laugh,
what the fuck? yea, yea.. y'all niggaz
yea, yea.. behold the only thing than yourself

(Verse 1)
I'll ya grill, don't start me
be the only entertainer with less groupies than Biz Markie
I'm never dull, Chino the thug, style centerfold,
have every latin in the country aimin at ya skull
I'll aim it at the Pope if he he sellin the most dope
My Jersey blocks is locked tighter prisoners hold soap
And listeners where we out ya CD and vinyl, the final result
Yell, fuck tricks and smoke, till our combine with a Colt
They this in every club, whip, party and bar you in
you more blood clots than two jamaicans arguin
Sweat till ya fake silver platinum is tarnishin
Women shakin ovaries, look what we accomplishin, what..

(Chorus)
We got better than you got "What You Got?"
We got better than you got "What You Got?"
We run more killas than you got "What You Got?"
We got better whips you got "What You Got?"
We got better than you got "What You Got?"
We got better bitches you got "What You Got?"
We run more killas than you got "What You Got?"
We got better than you got "What You Got?"

(Verse 2)
Coming to me, I cant hear that
Fear is a stimulus I haven't been programmed to yet
Snatch you outta Roots like I'm from Illadelph
What I do to push your hairline back, Rogaine wont
My for the Wealth, like Stone Cold Austin's quest for the belt
I mention myself as a celestial cell, an of hell
At a lynching I smile, cut down, murder your guest list
My style never a drag like do black men in Texas
Next rapper to this, I'ma show them the real threat
Cause ride till my daughters like "Daddy are we there yet?"
Ain't no priest in the streets, only before miracles
See more keys than a lot of Hammer's vehicles
Told you I was coming, you ain't I'm assumin
If we all super heroes, these bitch niggaz be Wonder Women
Fist to fist, skin to skin, I make you flat
little niggaz, the tat on my shoulder cover they whole back
Cant hold back, splatter they whole rap to my ((?))
on MC's, wipin my ass on they notebooks
How the broke crooks in videos leave me
turn on channel 2 if I wanna CBS, bitch

(Chorus w/ variation)

(Verse 3)
but not last, I'll blast an informant
Until he has the to put end to his torment
Now shine up the brass for his
I'm last of the rawest, my passion ain't
I've the forces, I rap to the chorus,
My cast is enormous, I'm and I'm cautious
Twenty arms stronger than forklifts
Smoke in front of reporters till I choke and they nauseous
And through the glass of your Porsche's
Show you how is as hard as divorces
Lay you out dead in the grass on the
My craft is flawless, ya flesh wrapped in a blackened sausage
Blood Splashed across it for like a fag in a cordless
all witnesses, nosey, standing on porches,
Like torches, super human, skin never scorches
Drape your family reunion in black funeral
Have cats that ya drugs for you, avoid usual corners
I never lost this mad to be rap's Colossus
Breakin companies, Jersey got women strapped inside they
I got.. DJ Supporters and women makin sex
I got.. A crib like a fortress, for all my daughters
I got.. Rhymes hot like sauna's, and thousands from Warner
I got.. on every corner, surrounded by jewish lawyers
What what..

(Chorus w/ variation)