Luyện nghe bài hát Sum Shit I Wrote

Marks I erase like racism, I'm as as a bigot
Groove is my escapism when I'm I just kick it
What I need from you is understanding that I'm
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 loose like a screw from left right to tight
When 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 to bite
Your style is Pascal, mine is and just instinct
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 like bostage
I switch styles like a channel controls that are remote
Engage in a page and with words I

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

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

Sometime when I'm alone in my room I 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
a nigga in position with the stolen card the credit

Fuck flipping the script, the rap scene I'm trying to
My mellows call me, "Never", they be like, "Never's 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 come through to see 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 because look
Rest in to 'Heavena', washing tons of rappers like Booker

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

My foundation is in black block of 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 out the black face
Got flavor with fat taste, the rat race is a rat race

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

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

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

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