Luyện nghe bài hát Whatever

Ayo, what's up? There's a motherfuckers out here
With a style similar to mine
You know what I mean? Be tryin' to

They infiltrated the and now they
They wanna the style and claim it for their owns, ya know
But I'mma blow'em up 'cause it's like
Whatever you know I'm sayin'?

too strategical and mathematical
I rotate so fast that I appear
I keep the chemical but subliminal
The centrifugal and spiritual

You got You are grounded 'cause I've mastered electrical
Mostly mental but don't sleep on the
Ignorance got'em chatterin', one said I was a son to him
Still my L P is fatter than his or yours, took a pause
Now that I'm on the set my foes drop like hoe's drawers

In a brothel, only dealin' with what's
Applied left MC's penetrable
The stroke is apocalyptic
Hostile like Arabics in with automatics
And if you it, the monks can make it hectic
Set it off, fire burn up Jack and Santa Claus

Whatever you want to do, it clever
Whatever, whatever,

And to all crews, whatever

to blow up, but never disintegratin'
The MC equation, ferromagnetic
Ask my pops, genetic that's why I'm a weed head
And not the alcoholic, call it whatever you to call it
Devils just know that it's form of arithmetic

Hieroglyphic, you can picture this shit
The state of hip-hop is like hookers in politics
Got MC in' down like a convict
Blowin' up opposition as I maneuver it

And to make sure it's over stood, I around
Popular like crime in neighborhoods
Rock my like Shaka did, hold it down
Fuck your mind up Joe Jackson kids, check it out

So you want to do, make it clever
Whatever, whatever,

I do my thing, I represent
And to all y'all crews,
I gotta do my thing, I
And to all crews, whatever
I do my thing, I represent
And to all y'all crews,

Fire, flames, heat up the
Spontaneous combustion, the Pope's religion
Your of emcee in' is Paganism
Your rhymes no sense, just like a Roman Christian

But your niggas soup you up like
The Gwong Jan Lin of emcee in' strikes again
The snake bites again, but I'm to the poisonous venom
Ask the devil, he knows I'm

on the mike but not sexual, call me unalike
'Cause my rhymes are homo
you sad, like when Cher left Sonny Bono
Fire burn, Giuliani, Pataki and

Whatever you want to do, it clever
Whatever, whatever,

I gotta do my thing, I
And to all crews, whatever