Luyện nghe bài hát Who Want It?

(Big out to The Alchemist)

I'm the most blooded, gold flooded, iced out, star studded
Fly the ghost of who died cause the coke done it
Clean like that that I got in my garage
When that ride rides up (Ahhhh), you know it's not a Mazda
I zone than you cause I exercise with my hoes
But my finger got it's own regiment
I'm so sick Ne-Yo I got my own medicine, I do my own edits
C'mon, you if your crib ain't got no echo, let go you ain't a
I let go and bullets petrol into your car
Put your stunner shades on fix your to look at me
I'm standin but still but yeah my chain is doin a
Why the fuck they so much on those - why wouldn't we?
Plus I'm tired of niggas talking bout what I be (yeah)
Put the to 'em put the magnum in gear
Then, the blues to 'em let them things cruise through 'em (blao)
Believe you me I be squeezing at ease, you weak niggas will
Better breathe, you re-zoot it
That's the resume nigga, don't it seem
Don't it read long? Don't my got a ring to it?
a ring tone padded after King Comb
Adam Eve, battle rappin, theme song
That's I'm a natural, striking like I'm lightin matches
I could west, south, Midwest or bite the
Psychopathic, when he on the track like it's magic
The on his back just like his jacket (Woooo!)
The gats we pack got extensions attachments
Put your pencils and pens if you rappin
You ain't gotta write you could have 'em all in your head
read 'em off the floor when you dead (yeah)
Most I am in a category with none
Compare me to who? If it ain't the one I'm buryin you
Cause squeezing ain't shit, my guns be speakin to like Steven A. Smith
And believe me they spit, you want
I put up number every season that's the reason they sick (keep goin)
I don't pop a lot of bologna, the lot I shot up your homie
I rocked a lot of Prada, lot of
We only rock once and give 'em to my niggas (uh huh)
While you still cleanin yours and stickin your in 'em (yeah)
Im just a hot nigga, them triggers givin you riga'
Broadway and I'm all day a city slicker
You bigger me I still get you, I'm so shist'
I write if I wanted I could let Diddy dis you (keep goin)
Come through like the six is a tanker van
Have them killers up to the scene like the anchorman
And they'll give you the news without the down
Up comin rapper was but he is now famous (uh huh)
out you, blow your chest out you
Next album no need to the rest bout you
you in the air killed just hoverin' there chillin (What you doin?)
In the Hilton in fuckin with Paris Hilton (Damn!)
Your little bo at the podium reading
I'm getting blowed by a hoe in a Via
To prove my worth I did my dirt, the most you can do to the ghost is kill my
The most you can do to me now is steel my
You still touch it I'm dope, just feel my verse (keep goin)
My artistic process is all twisted
The raw shit I thought of from awe disses (yeah)
The of narcissism the sharp weapon
I start 'em all guess that I'm autistic
Preach! Nigga my speech is reachless, by any livin creature
Any way I'll meet you (yeah), I'll beet you (yeah)
Bed time to headline or I feature (uh huh)
Niggas ain't to hit nickel up to do songs (Naw)
one done it still pissed cause I pooped on him (hahahaha)
Made a writer's burst over I looped on him
Oh (seven), Royce Da 5'9" nigga who it?

Nobody!
(Royce Da 5'9"... The Bar Exam... Pay attention)