Luyện nghe bài hát Whatever

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

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

It's too strategical and
I rotate so that I appear invisible
I keep the but never subliminal
The force and spiritual

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

In a brothel, only with what's logical
Applied science MC's penetrable
The leader's stroke is
Hostile like Arabics in with automatics
And if you want it, the monks can make it
Set it off, fire burn up Jack Frost and Santa

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

And to all y'all crews,

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

Hieroglyphic, 'cause you can this shit
The of hip-hop today is like hookers in politics
Got MC in' locked like a convict
up opposition as I maneuver through it

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

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

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

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

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

on the mike but not sexual, call me unalike
'Cause my rhymes are never
Make you sad, like when Cher left Sonny
Fire burn, Giuliani, Pataki and

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

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