Luyện nghe bài hát Sh. Fe. MC's

We are to tell the world just who we are
Shocking female (MC's), female (MC's) (Repeat 2x)

1: Phife

No need for, introductions, cause I know you know my and
Knocking MC's out the frame and, putting them to shame and
I live for hip-hop, so I have no time for fun and and
So just come and the unique styles we are displaying
The beat's ridiculous, the lyrics articulate
Feels good, as if a just touched her (tits)
Sucker MC's, I'm killing 'em, I'm so sick of 'em
Silly (shit) when they rhyme, like red rugby shirt worn by Gilligan
Plus the hat, they (shit) is
When you see me coming ten steps back
I usage of the pronouns, adjectives, verbs
My granny says "You had a way with words"
And that's because my word is bond, lyrics are
MC's look at me like I'm friggin' eye sore

Verse 2:

Heere comes a brother hipping others on the style lack
I've always rhymed abstract, I even know the named Abstract
I am the earner of the in mine
Forget the physical cause the physical will die with
I'm shaped to in definite proportions
Of the kids who the fix (Just listen to the mix)
I imagine constant non-stop for the rubbishing
Like (niggas) use the Clinton loops as if they owned the
Ducks be bleeding from illegal feeding on my
I the Mardi Gras to your face
I outwit vipers in my cipher
I can easily them cause they're victims of the subconscious race
Tossing periods in front of reps?
It's not the 187 the 360 slept
You swallow the from the plate of elevate
Or you might get sparked by the crew who got the
So recessitating rap like the hicks do Presley
It's the kid who peed the jeans in off of Nesley
Just be MC nine, if you let me rhyme nine times infinitely I will

I let my Walkman from Sony cassettes from Raboni
Which to put me on the narrow road
Ayo, that's it from me, 3, and Ali explode!

Verse 3:

When I rhyme, the effect ripples
You sound sick, I hope your get sickles
You formulate real stiff (shit)
Then I bet it cut the chit chit
the Ab will, be sharper than a Ginsu
Cutter or bum (ass) head for the gutter
This is not a game and we ain't for the fame
ain't the aim, we came to rip the jam out the frame
My with paper is amazing
So needless to say mad trails are blazing
A whole lot of bull(shit) rhymes to get play
But I'm here to say rhymes to pay
I'm the type of brother that writes my knuckles get nary
And through the domepiece, the rhymes carry
transported to my throat then the quotes hit the air
As I dipped with the wares
Rhymes get slot times, back from the jack
the verbal constructor, some MC's is wack
I a girl do the bogle, doo doo brown and all
(niggas) jump up, drink Don, and have a ball
I ainimate the unlively with the verbal
The Abstract, the wack
Motivator of the many Moses
Moving through, bringing games the dummies that pose us
means you the sub relator of the sub culture
Like a vulture I swoop down on crowns, cause all around
Mental burdens I bring to MC's who
sad songs, money, the dough's not long
Mine on the hand is lent me tight
The gets real, real, real

Verse 4:

Real down to Earth I hit the Island Rail
You see me tango with the horn and the tail
I got the kid for your mind I design it sender
Smoking made from my neighbors, and the
50/50 luck the "S" off my chest
Cause the "S" on my makes a mess
Settling for Superman, stupid man, put on glasses
Now your (ass) be slow guessing molasass
Continue the menu, next on the
Hey that (bitch) at? (He's right here boy!)
I gotta see what I got and who I'm getting it
ain't no nickle dime game that I'm peddling with
Mikie said "Stop riding, it be dividing
me out how I be vibing"
Packing like pistol but my pops got the crystal
Told me if I ever need it just
Respects to Griff Dog for the
Much to Joe but for the favor
It's about a brothers trying to make it in this world
I'm I got a baby girl