Luyện nghe bài hát The Mic's My Piece

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[maestro fresh
I'm a ruler, how I reign
I do to rap what the mona lisa does to the
Rid 'em and written, my are like rodeo
I ain't kiddin', jock my portfolio
Played it wise, hit the
Rock international, now they me julio
Mcs have died, becuase I killed them
Some older me but yet children
Some veterans knew the
Because rap is not a joke, game's for real
Sucker cuss me, females rush me
When I off the set, my they touch me
Wes, you ate 'em up a feast
No need to use an uzi, the mic's my piece

"bang on"
"i'm mc"
"bang on"
"i'm mc"
"bang on"
"i'm mc"
** by dj ltd **

[maestro fresh
Some use a uzi, some a
You wanna test wes, well I'm ready
The mind is a magnum, the rhyme is a
The mic that's a trigger *bang* and I it
Too for prayer, dee is a slayer
Wes rocks the mics like a to isaiah
The player, the pimp mcs are risking
You'll get decked like clay liston

Where did the punch from?
Was it before, or the drum
Ltd be the referee
Saying 'punk me how many fingers you see'
The is my p-i-e-c-e
The maestro no mc
Like a beast I beat while my release
I can say my mic's my piece
A bag of lsd and my dj needles
dope my group ain't feeble
Zero centigrade, thirty-two farenheit
Cold paid if you're a parasite
Paraphrase, to parallel paralyze
You're paranoid, you my record, you plagerize
I paragon, the paramont
Lyrical ? ? ? ? ? ? paragraph can't this
Move, you might get
There's a method ot my madness, mock my monologue
I'm like a beast my rhyme's released, like a sayss(? )
*bang* 'cause my my piece

[maestro wes]
I walk around looking at these clowns
Thinking about my crisp build to brown
I the coloured clown, this is what I mean
I'm not american, my hundred dollar ain't green
I'm from of the border, keep it in order
like the freak from the latin quarter
Though I'm down with the t-o
I don't with no polo team
No charade, a parade I'm here to
X-rate, excess, escalate escapade
I fancy girl she don't exist
Exercise the dip, the exorcist
Extreme 360, will snap
She my rhythmn, received the whiplash
Executed, extracted, attracted
To the maestro, uhh,
In distress, she's
Be and still jacking, you must be wack kid
That's why the sultan to rap
The aftermath, the bloodbath of
Every title you held stripped off
torn ego with a busted up lip
When I start firing I never
I get hyped, *bang* the mic's my piece

[maestro fresh

Like franklin, columbo, I'm
I can run so low, try to my status
Don't they how long I've been at this
me a new jack, that's a dis
New jacks don't rock like
That's to me, don't say a word to me
I'm t-o that's why you dun heard of me
Yesterday, but now you're
'cause I'm exploding like
If I was new york
I know you would, rocked to my rhythmn, five years ago
I had to try a little harder the average
Just to get a break, but now I'm damage
Think that you're a star, sorry
Got beef? to farley
'cause what I is a masterpiece
Dope rhymes are when the mic's my piece

Some carry some carry guns
2000 brothers in the channel to be number one
Looking serious, flexing
You rub shoulders, step on toes and *bang* over
You get shafted
? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ?
Too many to brawl, I think I heard it all
Hip hop kept niggas alive, prefer to ball
want to party, but some do
I against one of the brothers from my high school
Real sad funeral, ask any
I speak this before this quadruple
Some minds are so shallow, are so narrow
Follow my ? ? ? ? before you're like pharoah
The mic is my weapon, it I ain't messing
No half stepping, I'm
Even when I die these will last
So roll over bethoveen 'cause the blastin'
pen another gay, I leave you in awe
This array could bust an
I'm the maestro, my symphony cease
Too damn hype! *bang* the mic's my piece