Luyện nghe bài hát You Ain't Real

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

Talkin' that old style
Same old song, old thang
Sweatin' yourself, gettin' busy yo
Huh, but you still can't

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

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

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

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

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

You got nerve to even that
What about that, yeah, what's up with rumor talkin'
We make a hit
We've been makin' hits you've been suckin' dicks
the town, lookin' for a hardcore deal
Yeah, you real

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Yo let's with a phrase that's quite hype
I'll control with soul Gee get
the mix like a DJ spinnin' 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 Hall said, I think
You rhyme like you're soft and you're quite stink

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

(You ready)
Tto step on the stage, get hit with the 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 back and, MC's we're slappin'
We're givin' no slack and, because you're
And yeah, you real

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

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