Luyện nghe bài hát Whatever

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

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

It's too and mathematical
I so fast that I appear invisible
I keep the but never subliminal
The force centrifugal and

You got static? You are grounded 'cause I've electrical
Mostly mental but sleep on the physical
Ignorance chatterin', one even said I was a son to him
Still my L P is fatter than his or yours, took a pause
Now that I'm back on the set my drop like hoe's drawers

In a brothel, only with what's logical
science left MC's penetrable
The leader's is apocalyptic
Hostile like Arabics in Israel with
And if you want it, the monks can it hectic
Set it off, fire burn up Jack Frost and Claus

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

And to all crews, whatever

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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