Luyện nghe bài hát Rework The Angles

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

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

Show mic precise, sacrifice
That's no hassle, the master got more loops lassos
hear me? they all conspiracy theories
Worthless, like testing ev' the purpose
Since the beginning, by pot and attentive women
Breakbeats and on concrete
Covered by cardboard, to skyline
Bottom line, in rhyme yo, put in 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 been hotta
The method in this game have you drained and strangles
Don't go to them, let em come to you, and the angles

Don't sleep on, I leave your knee torn, like
Liquid mc storm, like children of the corn, a freeform
Of energy, mentally fit to a century
centuries, one double-zero translate to victories
You kiddin me me? wack that's not my history
the wack and break his ankles, remember +misery+?
Lyrically skatin out of control
Work the angles the globe, from newark to south pole
It's so cold that mc's catch
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, that I'm bubblin
Defari on the fix, this shit is thunderin
Picture me or droppin the ball
That's like guy without that nigga aaron hall

Well if a brother 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 real monopoly
My g is god, your g for, geometry?
This man of war beats on the seashore
An deeo enough to take it to the sea
Every single beat bangs a c-4
We drop beats, why you asking what the beat
The spitfire dilated entity
I'm learning shockers like shockra energy
While barbershops sipping henny the kennedy's
I'm always been independent, that's word to b
guaranteed

Make t-shirts and slingshots, I bust khakis out, bounce to the spot
Naturally, me and my never play with this
I to love h.e.r. too, but now I fucking hate the bitch
She's up to all the niggas with the chains and whips
But alright, because all she do for me is pay the rent
And keep it moving, got a bad habit of losing my
Acting a fool, out tools, and making the whole corwd move
Towards the exit, be the next shit, we got you dilated
Hotter satan, the repeated parole violations
Xzibit the angles, cordless to dirty angels
How the was won: with microphones and turntables