Luyện nghe bài hát Ingredients to Time Travel

[sound of Keith Murray from Mary J. Blige 'What's the 411' tape
which I could swear has been set to B.I.G.'s "Who Shot Ya" on
the sound of the (Artifacts assure me that this is Mary J. Blige)]
"My subliminals, mixed with chemicals
Got mily syllables than alphabet cereal..."
*car slams*

Tame: I ta get this bag of bam ba zi, fuck this!

"You know who the I am so get off that old bullshucks!"
--> (scratched sample)
"He ain't shit, you ain't shit, your ain't shit, daddy ain't shit"
--> (scratched sample)

[Tame
If I had it my way, every wack MC die Friday
Makin a better day
Sunday wouldn't start week off til Monday
One day tunes I wrote yesterday will be scriptures for today
At high noon, Boom Skwad with knowledge
Holler at apostles, who squalor in despair, those who follow
Swallowin like St. Ide's while you stare... take a drink
Don't think in a eyeblink I start my hijinks
and a flight [Yeah right, when?]
night, cause off the record with the treble and the bass
I chase my lyrics through the rap
Last place is simply not an in my case
Waste not want not I front not
The Notty keeps his lyrical cocked
and locked up at your temple, instrumentals
("It's all in mind") you No. 2 like the pencil
The Skwadron, Godson, who got the Bop Gun
The top gun, from the jump like
I got one, candy-coated rote rhymes skits I shit on I get on
Then flip the scripts like I had on
on like electrical, my symmetrical
alphabetic keeps my ridin on my testicles
("he shit, you ain't shit, ain't nobody shit")
You to the rescue, let me you
Who the best crew, most
has to be the Skwad cause I'm the
All you misrepresenters with your inches need pinches
Wake the up and check out what this is
("he ain't shit, you ain't shit, your momma ain't shit, nobody shit")
I can't see but victories
MC's think they can get to me, bring it
Cause once I pass the blunt to my then we in it
For the infinite, no play
The notty headed Newark nigga from NJ and the
fully, playin bullies out for yappin
Thinkin you'll be rappin, get and say you scrappin
While I been waitin hatin fake that make they bacon
passion, rippin up they stickers for reaction
Practicin on rap has-beens, I'm down the Biz like Backspin
Dissin Mikes like the
Thick like the lips on Fugee chick
Hard the dicks in booty flicks
Dissin niggaz a snooty bitch (trick)
I only pop a coochie if it smells
Get the lucci hit it for months and smoke blunts with the hoochies
("What's the Dunn" - Tame)
You know the flavor blue cheese
on how I make crews bleed and school who try to do me

("He shit, you ain't... ahh motherfucker")
"Do me baby, do me baby"
("he ain't shit, you shit...")
"bom ba zi, it over motherfuckers"
("He ain't shit, you shit")

Outro: CMZ

75% water, H2O, PE, alcohol, oil
on temperature, what's the hot shit?
Rhino, Tame, Boom Skwad, Hidden
INI, Reflections, check the
Aight God, what's fake
to turn platinum to purple chrome
Green purple red white chrome