Luyện nghe bài hát Rasta Imposter

What you got to do with it? What the you talkin about?
What the fuck you got to do with it? You stupid nigga? You
Did you see that video, nigga? Fuck wrong with you? you don't,
you don't know what you go to do with it. Like fuckin insane or
something. (You fuckin ass nigga)
(laughing in background)
One]
Y'all faggots is weak, y'all starstruck think shit is sweet
That busy signal is dead up in the street
Heard that garbage dough jam, made me
On when your man's wack shit and went to take up his
Jealous faggot man cause I'm richer than
When I load my desertees, I'm y'all
On the of Queens where I was raised and born, hardcore
And stood on every corner like a store
Clips full of hollowtips, follow loose
at your clique and make em cough up my chips
Bitch, ya wanna see if I'm ill?
Wanna see how many rappers can be killed, how much can spill?
I inject this lyrical drill, if I can't do it, the dumb-dumbs

Tell that nigga to tell his man to tell that
I send the wolves to kill that
If you wanna know why, its cause I'm that nigga
Michael Jordan of all this rap shit, the trigger
What the fuck? You on a mission to
And have the nerve to let the model cluck
Your swervin nigga, better the white lines
Your up on the sidewalk, off course, read the
I'm so ill, y'all niggas is so
Your whole crew is such, lack the hard impact
Far as your man go, I got young niggas that get him
Treat him like a Philly, and split'im

L.L. lose niggas, we can do it however you choose nigga
One on one or up the crews nigga
But Can-I-Blast you out shoes nigga
You know the nigga!

[Verse
Queens shit, give me so I can grab my dick
Sew that shit, what the fuck y'all niggas with?
Backwards, ass-jerk, up out the woodwork
my meat, tryin to critique my physique
A real nigga wouldn't mention my lips
Can't believe you went there, no I you a bitch
Sugar-coated nigga, nigga
Young guns take a pull they quote a nigga
Yeah, I wrote it nigga for all my real devoted niggas
I'm a true and livin lyrically ill poet
So what you talkin bout? That supposed to be hot?
Y'all on the warpath, y'all takin over my block?
I think not, matter of your not aloud to rap no more
And if you hear in the club sneak out the backdoor
And if you bumpin in your ride make sure your is up
and your passed the limit
So don't know a faggot's in it!
I'm L.L. and I did to you
waitin for every nigga runnin with you
Rhymes hit you, you up again and split you
Niggas ain't thats why Mom Dukes miss you
Tell your man bring it on, I'm only gettin
Never die, quit, and my money's long
Punk ass crab nigga, talkin his lips
Constantly involvin my with that bullshit!
Why I you? You stepped up in the ring
Ice jinglin in the video you the next Don King
And your man I know he got some lyrics in the stash
But I'm the best ever did it, now get this motheruckin ass
Mic's too hot to hold, it in the sand
So I can describe the picture both hands
You must not understand in command
I got all the flavor, but y'all is mad bland

[Verse
I'll cut your fuckin head off and leave it on mom's dresser
Then pay the pope a hundred thou to go and her
You wanna test a lyrical teacher and
I bet y'all niggas fall off now that your under
I stress ya, yet still I must check ya
Extort niggas for fucked up, stop and inspect ya
Fuck wrong with you nigga? You can't do to me
If I put a slug in you on the low, you'd try to sue me
Your blew me, I said "Now!" She said "Do me"
Bust a nut in her face on to let the crew see
Can't put dirt roll, nigga shit
Underestimantin what Queens niggas'll do for
I originated all shit
The ice, the champagne, the bitches on the
really don't apply to you crabs in a barrel
Mic's my staff sendin you a message like
Leave it or get swallowed in the sea
The of Hiphop is something you could never be
My crown you'll never see, rule forever, G
I'll be goin when you just a memory
I'm the double L, C, double O
With the seven upside down jakes the clown
What the fuck wrong wit y'all You out your mind nigga?
You better try to go beg Lauryn to come or something
wrong with you?