Luyện nghe bài hát Sum Shit I Wrote

Marks I erase racism, I'm as large as a bigot
Groove is my escapism when I'm bubbly I just it
What I need from you is understanding 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 that Cognac, I can't hold back a masseuse
I get like a screw turned from left 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 hi-tech shit computers want to bite
Your style is Pascal, mine is Basic and just
I'm with the fam and ran scams, me and Murray got up on big

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

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

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

Sometime when I'm alone in my I stare at the wall
And in the of my mind I hear a wack-ass rhyme
And I catch Alz-rhymers, then it, I get charged
Like a nigga in position with the card the credit

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

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

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

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

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

The go is where I'm and where I'm at, jack
I eating cat when I was 10
Before dinner I was big dog like Glen Robinson
I don't see wrong with a little bump and grind

But a time when you gotta get off of that booty
The facts of life I didn't learn from watching
But living in the big
But I still like Tootie cause she got big

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