Luyện nghe bài hát Zoo Two

[Ol Bastard]
grab and the mic and now I damage you, cut your whole stamina
Here the medical examiner
One verse then out for the count
(Bring the ammonia) make sure he the right amount
Wake him up and I ask him
Why did he intend --
competition to get an ass kickin so
Boy you shouldn't bother
Leave me alone like the (son G or he'll be fatherless!)
I got the asiatic mixed with disco
Roll up on the scene like the Count of Monte
and MC's to vanish
(I stepped up to a jet black kid, started spanish!
Yo he wasn't Panama
I asked him how he get so dark, the nigga suntama!
He responded so fast, you me laugh)
Ha-ha-ha, (then I scared-his ass!)
(Kick the hundred strongest
I brought out the in him
Caught him with a five deadly venom
him enter the Wu-Tang
Witness the Shaolin slang, that'll the shit you bring)
I watch ass take a big fall, why?!
My Main Source, is like a game of stickball
And as you up to bat man (I play the riddler)
You try to do me for a rhyme (then I'll to Hitler)
Go out like you'll be wishin your fuckin ass
stayed home and (Yahtzee!)
Or Happy Days sweatin (Poxie)
with and Richie Cunningham, Joni and (Chachi)
Wu, who? Me gettin so I'm through
Like a ten and a half foot, gettin in a (shoe)
(Now THAT with a Minolta)
Have your ass some Night Fever shit like John Travolta
I come I make knowledge born, I flip the script
and rock on from P.M. (past the Dawn)
Pass the Hammer you're broke down, niggaz grab my what
Can't understand it the panaroma
(A complete view of how I you)
Should of stepped to those fuckin kids who to (beat you)
Yeah I bust ass before
(You ran to and came back but forgot the chainsaw!)
And want to perform a
Better be coming with motherfucking shit that's spectacular
Crush the person who did em, well you better
So I'm stepping to (raggedy ass jetta)
Put the to the metal
You and your DJ change your to Ma and Pa Kettle
as I (pass the bone, kicks every measure)
It's not a Newport but it's live with pleasure
(C'mon be silly, just a bag of sensimilli
Rolled up in a) Philly
(I to write all the time when I smoked
Grab the mic, I kinda like went for broke
With visually concepts rhymes and biceps
Lyrically speakin, three to rhymes then choke
Some think they be this, claimin they be bombin this)
But they still a-nom-ynous
I pull strings Jimi Hendrix
Ride more that go backs to the days of Eddie Kendricks
I the truth to the youth, I say (hey youth)
Here's the truth, start wearing (bullet proof)
Arm yourself with a
(Before you get trapped up) just like the in the Cornfield