Luyện nghe bài hát You Ain't Real

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

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

I'd rip, and still the flip trip
On the mic grip and hit, and then
Into I ever miss yo
You still shit
Thinkin' all that, you've got

The rep and but you still can't rap
Wanna talk a wannabe, never gonna be
Ever gonna be, gonna see
Come here, come here child yeah
I got flavor, style,

Yo, you can't
You wanna steal my voice, our sound
my beats, you wanna 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' like a
Yeah, style's what I ya

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

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

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

Niggaz, who are you? You real
Niggaz, yeah, you you real
Niggaz, man
Niggaz, get out my

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

Let me ask one
You think I off? Well come test then
You ain't the man to the Big X
Fuck around [unverified] next

Yes, shit is wild
Very wild, and much wild
But watch when I with the Rhythm X shit
after that, motherfuckers wanna quit

Whether or not, you like it or not, wack it's true
Your crew sound doo doo
I keep to wipe the first face
I'm like a that stays in first place

Winnin', the motherfuckin' Giants
You got rhymes to kick? Then science
Math, English, fuck it I it
Yo Ced, come and the mic

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

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

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

(You ready)
Tto on the stage, get hit with the rhyme jab
Just like the Flintstones, break like bam bam
Bam bam bam bam bam

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

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

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