Luyện nghe bài hát Microphone Master (41st Side Remix)

I am what I am, I comes to get biz so bust the jam
I might not be the man but I still proceed to slam, I cram
to understand why rappers try to faze me
They must be messin' with the Books and Drayzie

Big-up to Jersey and my out in EL-A
Well-a can never cut the swell-a
'Cos you can tell I gets biz Markie
No what the weather son you never wanna spark me

I'm kickin' rhymes and gettin' on the regular
See me in the black Benz blowin' up the cellular
We as shit, the sky is it?
You know the style yo is fly as shit
So grip, you're cheap and buried cos you're never comin' it
(What?)

So fear it when you hear it, cheer it but don't it
I still be schoolin', foolin' 'em when I'm
Kids be heapin', they love the way we be freakin'
My sewer style it disaster so when I ask
You better answer who's the microphone

Miggity microphone master, super maker
Miggity microphone master, super rhyme
Miggity microphone master, super rhyme
microphone master, super rhyme maker

Well yo, here's the
I'm briggity bringin' a new of thing
It's a rap singer a fat flow, so low and behold
I higgity hold his mic piece for ransom, it's all expanses
Stocks of skunks, props and my get a mansion

By the age of 16, had of big screens
Mad rubbers to keep my dick
Chrome tools in rent and I only go downtown to buy jewels and
Jaboll, Guess, ol' Gold and

I the mic 2-1 and chew gum to ease the breath
My style is wild the Cats of Villanova
The heat on the street'll my 40's spillin' over
So the skunk and Thai keep me high I'm smokin'

And I don't sleep, just naps with one eye open
See I believe the beaded in me is feedin' me
The to riggity rock the nation
From white folk to Haitian, [unverified]

Burn MCs like of Mason because you're fakin'
I'm on point, with the caper
The flavor misbehaver from the duper rhyme maker

Miggity microphone master, rhyme maker
Miggity microphone master, super rhyme
Miggity microphone master, super maker
Miggity microphone master, super maker

I got to give a shout to my mans, my fans at the shows
Friends, foes, stiggity and hoes
Drats, I'm to ride the fat, ooh shit
My crew is shake, rattle and thick

Thicker than your blunt yo I be's the Brooklyn trooper
And I got more spunk than that from Punky Brewster
Bust the lingo Ringo Starr bingo
I run shit like Kunta, breaks like Mandingo

I'm like starbuck, the bad bro is mad though
I'm all that cat like Tomko or Hasbo
I no figgity fear yeah, it's me and mines
Masters of the microphone, of the super rhymes

Yo, yo the shit sound clever
I'm clown for like nuttin' nice
to DJ Dice wreckin' shop when he cut 'n' slice
These 20 MCs, please, I heard of some
We need to some like Colin Ferguson

But now ya heard us from the so feel the thunder
Ya best to come like J-Rule and 'Felix Sunder'
I'm buggin' like gristle, see I you

you, my style's official and that's the issue
I the flow I go until it's time to leave
Believe I'm packin 'more up my sleeve

Miggity microphone master, super rhyme
microphone master, super rhyme maker
Miggity microphone master, super maker
Miggity microphone master, rhyme maker

Miggity master, super rhyme maker
Miggity master, super rhyme maker
Miggity microphone master, rhyme maker
Miggity master, super rhyme maker

Miggity microphone master, super maker
Miggity master, super rhyme maker
Miggity microphone master, super maker
Miggity microphone master, super rhyme
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