Luyện nghe bài hát Professor Booty

Yes, I got more bounce the fucking bump
And then you want to know why because I'm motherfuckin'
I'm in the pocket just like Grady
Got supplies of beats so you don't to wait
'Cause I'm the master blaster, drinking up the
My voice sounds sweet it has to (looking good!)
So a match to my ass 'cause I'm blowin' up
I'd like to thank the for just showin' up
But now I want y'all to it
Put your point on the and just prove it
And I'm smurfin', not rehearsin', live, y'all
A little puffy, so you know what, I'm doin'
'Cause that's the kind of of mind I'm in
I got this that it's back again
So touch me, 'cause I'm electric
And if you touch me, you'll get

You got, you got, you got, you got, you got
You've got the system, but it's sloshing out doo-doo
You think it's chocolate milk, but it's watered Yoo-hoo
been through many times in which I thought I might lose it
The thing that saved me, has always been music
got our own studio, the Son of the G
It's no question, life's good to me
life ain't nothing but a good groove
A good mixtape to put you in the mood
This one out to my man, the Groove Merchant
Coming with beats for which I've been searching
two sealed copies, of Expansions
I'm like Tom Vu with and mansions
The I sport is the face of the monkey
made, Ben Davis-quality, it's no junk, see?
My chrome is shining, like an icicle
I ride around in my low-rider bicyle

So wack emcees, you get the TV bozak
Ain't gonna call out your names, 'cause you're so wack
And one big oaf, faker than plastic
A dictionary of the word spastic
You should have never started something that you finish
'Cause writin' rhymes to me is like Popeye to
I'm bad ass, ya' fat ass, 'cause you're wack, son
around like you think you're Janet Jackson
Thought you could walk on me to get some to walk on
I'll put the rug out under your ass as I on
I'll you out like a sniper on a roof
Like an at the fever in the DJ booth
With your strapped, you're rockin' rewind/pause
Tryin' to figure out you can do to go for yours
But a pencil to a paper, I got more to come
One another, you can all get some
So you better take time, and meditate on your rhyme
'Cause your shit'll be stinkin' I go for mine
And that's right, y'all, don't get uptight,
You can't say shit because you're biting what I write,
And wrong, y'all, over the long haul
You can't cut the mustard when fronting it all