Luyện nghe bài hát Rework The Angles

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

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

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

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

Well if a gets the best of me
Ain't no use in 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 stroked
Rocca, I the angles triple opticly
The hip-hop multi-beat monopoly
My g is god, what's your g for,
This man of war beats on the seashore
An deeo enough to take it to the sea
Every single bangs like a c-4
We drop beats, why you asking what the for?
The spitfire fighter entity
I'm learning shockers like shockra energy
While barbershops sipping henny like the
I'm always independent, that's word to beni b
guaranteed

Make and slingshots, I bust khakis out, bounce to the weed spot
Naturally, me and my faculty play with 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 alright, because all she do for me is pay the rent
And it moving, got a bad habit of losing my cool
Acting a fool, breaking out tools, and making the corwd move
the exit, this be the next shit, we got you dilated
Hotter than satan, the parole violations
Xzibit work the angles, to dirty angels
How the west was won: microphones and turntables