Luyện nghe bài hát Rap Poets

as soon as hip hop out it was a music that i could grasp and identify with the millennium.

all and round!
from the first to the last, it is in the
clear shit! all my nigger my..
the hip pop is out!
..my rap poem.

there's a certain mystique i speak that you notice
it's sort of unique, cause you know it's me,
my is deep and i'm still mad at the way i flow to this beat!
i can't still, it's like trying smoke crack and go to sleep,
i'm strapped known any minute i could snap,
i'm the equivalent of what would if bush rapped
i these rappers so bad lyrically
it ain't even funny, i ain't even hungry, it ain't money
you can't pay me for you to play me
it's cockamanie you just ain't zany enough to rock shady
my noodle is cock-a-doodle, my clock's
i got screws loose, yea the kitten caboodle, i'm just brutal
no rumor, i'm numero uno, assume it
there's no more humor in it, no more you
i'm rolling with a bowling ball in my bag
you need a fag to come and a near hole in my ass!

young hov got the game in a
twenty million all independently,
so when you me
make sure you got together your
like, "he's the j.f.kennedy"
i started out, i ain't no chimney
my ma was santa claus, well, at she pretended to be
one night, well, that's if memory serves me correct
i caught her under the tree.
young hov have no pops
thank god, man, i had the
ya'll hear me
you fucks got the game all wrong
this is my life, man, this no song!
you ain't livin' your out, you live at your mom's house
in tight-ass room, pullin' the cars out
and the mirror at your reflection, killing yourself
you pie, stop feeling yourself!

:]
i woke up early on my day, i'm twenty years of blessing
the essence of adolescent my body now i'm fresh in
my physical frame is celebrated i made it
one quarter through life some god-ly like created
got rhymes 365 days plus some
load up the mic and one, cuss while i puffs from
my skull cause it's pain in my brain vein maintain
go against the grain simple and plain!
when i was young at this i used to do my thing
robbin' foreigners take they wallets they and rip they green cards
dipped to the projects flashin' my cash
and got my first piece of ass smokin' with hash
now it's all cash in abundance, niggaz i used to run with
is rich or years in the hundreds
i switched my motto -- instead of fuck tomorrow
that buck that a bottle could've struck the lotto.
once i stood on the block, loose produce stacks
i cooked up and cut small pieces to get my loot
time is keep static like wool fabric
pack a four-matic crack your whole cabbage!