Luyện nghe bài hát Sum Shit I Wrote

Marks I erase like racism, I'm as large as a
Groove is my escapism when I'm I just kick it
What I need you is understanding 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 that Cognac, I can't back like a masseuse
I get loose like a screw turned from left to tight
it's time for some action, I get Red's, "Tonight's Da Night"

An eye for an eye, a for his wife
Dissected, I'm on some hi-tech shit computers want to
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 knowledge is the key, I'm the locksmith
Started a missionary way on my life, the mic I rust like
I switch styles a channel with controls that are remote
in a page and with words I elope

Walking down the aisles with styles I the viles
Anti-Nazi I rocks like a Z-28
At any rate, brothers gain interest because I loaned them
couldn't house the shit 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 keep on and you

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

Fuck flipping the script, the rap scene I'm trying to
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 come through to see what I am up to
They be on the dick of crew that be giving us sweet and us fruit
Like Kareem I got the hook up, brothers look out because they
Rest in peace to 'Heavena', washing of rappers like Booker

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

My is in black block of niggas that rock they hat cock
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 tall flavor with fat taste, the rat race is a rat

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

The go is where I'm from and where I'm at,
I eating cat when I was 10
Before dinner I was big dog like Glen Robinson
I don't see nothing wrong with a little and grind

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

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