Luyện nghe bài hát Rework The Angles

* also featured on and king tech's "this or that"

[a.g.]
it out now
I the angles like, off the cushion in the sidepocket
Electrifying like a socket
Hit em all flavors, yup
We tryin to be neighbords with pro-ballplayers, I'm talkin
Or keep it realer, and see me on a caterpillar
On point like a killer, ready, to deliver
Type gifted, the mic right, or I might rip it
Critics dig my cause I write different, no hype
I kick it, low-lifes, they wanna get it
I shine the ice when I hold mics, everytime
Got every dime, sayin this nigga so nice, you what?
They so right, you get stuck, go twice
Lit it up I blow mics

Show mic precise, sacrifice
no hassle, the master got more loops than lassos
Y'all hear me? all conspiracy theories
Worthless, like testing ev' defeats the
Since the beginning, intrigued by pot and attentive
and windmills on concrete
Covered by cardboard, to skyline
line, in rhyme yo, put in time you shine
That's right I get so hyped
I like diamond d the best producer on the mic
I aced -- most punchlines are tasteless
Regular, average, mediocre,
To all my dj's, skills you got a lotta
This ain't on your mixtape, yo it coulda been
The in this game they'll have you drained and strangles
go to them, let em come to you, and work the angles

Don't sleep on, I leave your torn, like sehorn
Liquid mc storm, like children of the corn, a freeform
Of energy, fit to last a century
Like centuries, one double-zero translate to
You me me? come wack that's not my history
the wack and break his ankles, remember +misery+?
Lyrically you're out of control
Work the angles 'round the globe, from newark to pole
It's so that mc's catch pneumonia
I'm airborne, from l.a. to
I heads from pomona out the bronx
Drop the sure needle contact, now watch me
Dj's, you jugglin, means I'm bubblin
on the remix fix, this shit is thunderin
Picture me fumblin or the ball
That's like guy without that nigga aaron hall

Well if a gets the best of me
no use in sniveling and blaming the referee
Fuck that, I strip the mic with d
Kick it up to evidence, yo it out to me!
Line up the three, trifecta properly
Rocca, I the angles triple opticly
The multi-beat real monopoly
My g is god, what's your g for,
This man of war beats cold on the
An deeo enough to take it to the sea
Every single bangs like a c-4
We drop beats, why you what the beat for?
The spitfire fighter dilated
I'm learning shockers like building energy
While barbershops sipping henny the kennedy's
I'm always been independent, word to beni b
It's

Make t-shirts and slingshots, I bust khakis out, bounce to the weed
Naturally, me and my faculty never play this
I used to love h.e.r. too, but now I fucking hate the
She's sucking up to all the niggas with the and whips
But that's alright, all she do for me is pay the rent
And keep it moving, got a bad of losing my cool
Acting a fool, breaking out tools, and the whole corwd move
Towards the exit, this be the shit, we got you dilated
Hotter than satan, the repeated parole
Xzibit the angles, cordless to dirty angels
How the was won: with microphones and turntables