Luyện nghe bài hát You Ain't Real

Brothers wanna know, what's on about the 4-1-1
On the group, and so on and so
So what you for, you know what I came for
A motherfuckin' war

that same old style
Same old song, same old
Sweatin' yourself, you're gettin' yo
Huh, but you still hang

I'd rather rip, and the flip trip
On the mic grip and hit, and then
Into I never ever yo
You ain't shit
Thinkin' all that, you've got

The rep and props but you can't rap
talk about a wannabe, never gonna be
Ever gonna be, who's see
near here, come here child yeah
I got flavor, style,

Yo, you compete
You wanna my voice, steal our sound
Steal my beats, you fuck around
I don't play son, shorts do I none

You need help call 9-1-1
Or the Beatles, or
Drink you up a cup of Tropicana juice
I got more, flowin' a river
Yeah, style's what I ya

Shakin' 'em, keep fakin' 'em, make makin' 'em
'em, bakin' 'em, no mistaken 'em
Dope, hyper, raw def MC
Wanna talk a man, yo who is he or she

You got nerve to even that
What about that, yeah, up with that rumor talkin'
We make a hit
We've been makin' hits while you've been suckin'
Around the town, for a hardcore deal
Yeah, you ain't

Niggaz, yeah, you ain't
Niggaz,yeah,you ain't
Niggaz, you ain't
Niggaz, yeah, you ain't

Niggaz, who are you? You ain't
Niggaz, yeah, you you ain't
Niggaz, man
Niggaz, get out my

Yeah, motherfuckers blast
I keep in store for they ass
ain't got the style to kick no shit
I rhymes and heat and just blow shit out

Let me ask one
You think I fell off? come test then
You the man to stop the Big X
around become [unverified] next

Yes, shit is gettin'
Very wild, and much wild
But when I come with the Rhythm X shit
Then after that, motherfuckers quit

Whether or not, you like it or not, you're it's true
whole crew sound doo doo
I keep tissue to the first face
I'm like a team that in first place

Winnin', like the Giants
You got rhymes to kick? Then drop
Math, English, it I said it
Yo Ced, and grab the mic

Yo let's with a phrase that's quite hype
I'll control with Gee get right
Into the mix like a DJ on
The is buggin, rememberin', "Bring it On"

The phrase that stand to all that try
To to the Gee get roast and I wonder why
Hmm, like Arsenio Hall said, I
You rhyme like butter soft and you're quite stink

Tryin' to perpetrate, sayin' you're right
You hit money grip you're fake like a bad
with Freddie, you know not ready
You sound immature, like a amateur

(You ready)
Tto step on the stage, get hit the rhyme jab
like the Flintstones, I'll break like bam bam
Bam bam bam bam bam

I'm ya
You on the Gee, better yet, true Ultra
But now we're back and, we're slappin'
We're givin' no and, because you're wack
And yeah, you ain't

Niggaz, yeah, you real
Niggaz, yeah, you real
Niggaz, yeah, you ain't

Niggaz, who are you? You ain't
Niggaz, yeah, you you real
Niggaz, man get out my