Luyện nghe bài hát Sum Shit I Wrote

Marks I erase racism, I'm as large as a bigot
Groove is my escapism I'm bubbly I just kick it
What I need from you is that I'm standing
On my own two, with my own crew

Toe cancer, I'm bad to the too, I'm prone to snap off
When I'm off Cognac, I can't hold back like a masseuse
I get loose like a screw turned from right to tight
it's time for some action, I get Red's, "Tonight's Da Night"

An eye for an eye, a life for his
Dissected, I'm on some hi-tech computers want to bite
Your style is Pascal, is Basic and just instinct
I'm the fam and ran scams, me and Murray got up on big links

And if knowledge is the key, goddammit I'm the
Started a missionary way on my life, the mic I like bostage
I switch like a channel with controls that are remote
Engage in a page and with words I

down the aisles with styles I freak the viles
Anti-Nazi when I rocks like a
At any rate, brothers gain interest because I loaned microphones
They couldn't house the shit so had to rent to own

It's that, coming from the go rapper
I wanna bone Jada and that hoe Patra
So on and you don't, now come on
Ah on and you don't

Sometime when I'm alone in my room I stare at the
And in the back of my mind I hear a rhyme
And I catch Alz-rhymers, then forget it, I get
Like a nigga in position the stolen card the credit

flipping the script, the rap scene I'm trying to edit
My call me, "Never", they be like, "Never's going to get it"
Never's too much, I'm too, I do justice to poetics
That's why cats be like, "Fuck you, you, fuck you!"

Other studs through to see what I am up to
They be on the dick of crew that be giving us sweet and buying us
Like I got the hook up, brothers look out because they look
in peace to 'Heavena', washing tons of rappers like Booker

Tee me, "You gotta get out of the crib, get into the world"
How you going to come off the style that's through?
It's like that, on, ha ha
It's that, keep on

My foundation is in black block of niggas that rock hat cock
I'm real like a fight with my rap, rappers I box
Back I got my rap, now get glock out the black face
Got tall flavor with fat taste, the rat race is a rat

Just 'cause you got with the fat laces
And the fro don't make you hip-hop, tou sorry excuse for rap
Why is there so many trying to rhyme, yo funk that
The real shit's starting to back

The go is where I'm from and where I'm at,
I started eating cat I was 10
Before dinner I was getting big dog like Robinson
I see nothing wrong with a little bump and grind

But comes a time you gotta get off of that booty
The facts of life I didn't from watching Tootie
But in the big city
But I still Tootie cause she got big titties

My style is steep, I write rhymes on the
Splat guts plus fat and lay up like a crib line
I'm slamming, on the one
I'm a bad man, just a good son, come on