Luyện nghe bài hát De Automatic

Some de automatic
it out

Some fear de automatic, yes de
Disrespect, MC's, me nah go have it
De automatic, get de
a rapper gwan die

Crazy waste they time chasin' millions
KRS-One, holds the minds of the children
I'm buildin' a followin' of a hundred and forty-four
few heads up in project housin'

A true rapper, street rapper, rappin' to the
I any cipher, with tales of adventure
If rappers are ridin' beats like cars, I'm mad fenders
Put down mic and surrender

Youse a pretender, Blastmaster KRS rules the
Kickin' while you wait for your arraignment
Save it before your chest I cave it in
I got my way again, I'm classical like a fuckin' Davidson

How do you I kick a lyrical style no and you figure
simple, I'm a rap God, and youse a nigga
Don't mean I'm bigger, it simply means I'm
For starters, I at you poetically harder

De automatic, get de
Disrespect, MC's, me nah go have it
De automatic, get de
a rapper gwan die

Ha hah, fake ass rapper, how you you got juice?
When you rock a pair of underneath your bubblegoose
KRS-One will up parties dramatically
My reflex'll slap a wack rapper

When you was home witcha mother, of the dark
I was sleepin' out in Park
one meal every 48 hours
Writin' rhyme styles that you now devour

Don't you realize, I'm all about survival
I got only friends I killed all my rivals
Show up at the rhyme recitals, took they
From eighty-six to completes my first cycle

De automatic, get de
Disrespect, from MC's, me nah go it
De automatic, get de
Tonight a rapper die

I spent 40 and 40 nights in the wilderness
I'm hard, from head to toe yo ain't no killin' this
I wrote over 100 rap
And sociological books, while you worried about your

Now you enter the dragon in sound
But I've got the live club show locked
Platinum and gold don't in my arena
You gots to keep it on the mic, when they see ya

I manifest, in the West the East and
The vision in rap is and I don't know of these
I represent New York to be
The South Bronx, but in Japan I'm gifted

I grab a jet and land on set, what the fuck?
Twenty for a rap show is still, twenty bucks
I start from eighty-six and bring you ninety-six
No gimmicks, tricks or lyrics

De automatic, get de
Disrespect, MC's, me nah go have it
De automatic, get de
Tonight a gwan die

yeah, it's the God Fat Joe
Representin' the motherfuckin' South
With my Kris, knockin' off frauds
Motherfuckers wanna do
Big shout out to my Kenny Parker
Ill Will, BDP crew for nigga
Gotto, the Big French productions
Of course the TAT crew, my Brim
The T.S. crew, and the Godsville
Bronx represent nigga, uhh
The South Bronx, the South South
South Bronx, the South Bronx
Yeah, uhh