Luyện nghe bài hát I'm Ready

You, you, you
(You rappers can't be Fred)
You, you, you
(You rappers can't be Fred)

You, you, you
(You rappers be like Fred)
you hate it

This is a rap
And I'm the man at the speakin
Keepin you and freakin
I alive from the world of streets, baddest beats
And bashed up a MC's to find my seat

So cover your chest, protect your
If a rhyme catches your mind sleep, you fall
I kick it wicked like a wizard, rhymin every
To beat me, you got to have a army or

Bum-rushin other like Rhyme-O-Cop
This is a contact sport, it's called
You suckers can't hang I'm rhymin fast
your mic doesn't have enough power to last

But when I slow it to a moderate speed
You catch a headache and a nose bleed
I break wild, you call Jake
You try to me down, but your first mistake

I keep my eyes on a worthy opponent
Cause it'll be a trick to see em lose, won't it?
I keep ready and prepared for all
I handle whatever call, too to fall

When you see Foxxx, you know you'll be entertained
When the show's all over and the sound
In brain and you walk away sayin my rhyme
good like a man that don't eat swine

Fall asleep at night, and you to dream
If you was a rapper on the hip-hop scene
You'd be on the neck, and your pockets are fat
But bein a rap a bit more than that
You have to have a ear for new ideas

And speak words fluent, so everythin's clear
The mumblin a comical gimmick
That the devils money off and suckers can mimic
When you run out of rhymes, gonna there sweaty
'Cause you wasn't ready, like Freddie the
I'm

Street rappers hear a style that like a lot
When they make that record, their rhymes are hot
Not hot you hear it on the radio all the time
But hot like stolen

Whatever's in darkness, has to come to light
So what would happen if I gave you the mic
One night, and you recite you didn't write
If it belonged to Freddie Foxxx, you might have to

I throw jabs and rights, left and hay-makers
Only luck can duck the
You're caught in a grip, tight and squeezin
Whinin and cryin, beggin and

I'm and mystical, I want you to know
when you gear up to come to a show
Don't wonder why thunder hit my
It's Freddie Foxxx on a rage

I make rappers nervous, give em the jitters
Give em 'E' for and I beat up the quitter
my hand around his neck and I grab him by the hair
Then Karate-kick him Mataka bear

Rappers boast and brag about their lyrical
But they all shut the up when I break ill
Cause I take all and house both sexes
got a reason to sweat the three X's
I'm