Luyện nghe bài hát Sum Shit I Wrote

Marks I erase like racism, I'm as large as a
Groove is my escapism I'm bubbly I just kick it
What I from you is understanding that I'm standing
On my own two, with my own crew

Toe cancer, I'm bad to the bone too, I'm prone to 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 for his wife
Dissected, I'm on some hi-tech shit want to bite
Your style is Pascal, is Basic and just instinct
I'm with the fam and ran scams, me and got up on big links

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

Walking down the with styles I freak the viles
when I rocks like a Z-28
At any rate, brothers gain interest because I loaned them
They house the shit so they had to rent to own

It's like that, coming from the go
I wanna bone Pinkett 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 stare at the
And in the back of my mind I a wack-ass rhyme
And I catch Alz-rhymers, forget it, I get charged
Like a nigga in position with the stolen card the

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
why cats be like, "Fuck you, fuck you, fuck you!"

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

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

My foundation is in black of niggas that rock they hat cock
I'm like a fight with my rap, rappers 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

Just 'cause you got Adidas the fat laces
And the fro don't make you hip-hop, tou excuse for funk rap
Why is there so cranks trying to rhyme, yo funk 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 big dog like Glen Robinson
I don't see nothing with a little bump and grind

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

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