Luyện nghe bài hát Too Many Rappers

Mic check, mic

One, one, two, two, three,
Too many rappers, and still not enough emcees
It three, three, two, two, one, one
MCA, Ad-Rock, Mike D, that's how we get it done

and gents attention, Nas in the house
With Beastie Boys, we can it out
Perpetrators, we can 'em out
So if you got on your mind, let it out

Yo, I been in the game before you was born
I might still be emceein' even you're gone
Strange thought, I know, but my still grow
The 80's, the 90's, 2000's, and so

On and on the crack of dawn
Until the year and beyond
Stay up all night, and I emcee and die
'Cause death is the cousin of

Because I'm back with a boogie, oogie oogie
Strawberry 23 like Shuggie
Oh, my God, just at me
Grandpa rappin' since '83

Oh, I'm like J.J. Fad
Got crazy ass shit out the bag
Don't forget the sauce, yo, 'cause it's sad
All these crap rappers, rappin' like crabs

I carte blanche, the vagabond
Nas is the narcissist, my pockets are
I'm no killa, but to you, I'm more real'a
You a shot, a mobster, or a drug dealer

A slug peeler, not, mafioso, no
You got the cutthroat in ya, beginner
I tryin' to hear your racket
You with police dog, you snitch, you rat, you wear that jacket

How many rappers must get
Gimme eight bars, and watch me this
I to reminisce, oh, when I miss
The real hip hop with which I

Like rum in mojitos, and banditos
balls in soup, jackets and troop
Yes, y'all, this is one for the history
Nasty Nas, the word, count it off on the hook

go! One, one, two, two, three, three
Too many rappers, and there's still not enough
It three, three, two, two, one, one
MCA, Ad-Rock, Mike D, that's how we get it like

and gents attention, Nas in the house
With Beastie Boys, we can it out
Perpetrators, we can 'em out
So if you got on your mind, let it out

'Cause this the type of lyric inside your brain
To blow you bullshit rappers out the frame
My spin round like a hurricane twister
So get your hologram on off of Blitzer

Too many to shake a stick at
I outta a tax for every weak rap
I had to listen to we be makin' stacks
Like Stax Records, my squad we gotta pack, we coming whack

To all you crab rappers and
And Fenders, two-tone splendor
I take the cake, I the mold

The golden microphone, that's mine to hold
And why all these biters all up in my space?
Sniffin', puffin', huffin', and mean muggin' with a Bluffin
Back up off me, sucka, you ain't sayin'

I'm broader than Broadway, I was in hallways
Dual recorder, lacin' oratorials all day
I'm just getting started on this beat, this is
And when song finished, y'all can sing along with this

By the way, I have a strong fetish for Christian Louboutin
I hear Russian blonde's the
But anyway, I better pay to my fellas
And that's on my mind and the rhyme, who's next up?

D, the man of mystery
History in the makin', and now we're
Titles, awards, and
Scarin' the as I sharpen my blades

We together like peanut butter and sandwiches
Like pen and paper, Picasso and canvases
Rockin' stadiums and bars
Go back in time, send a fax my car

One, one, two, two, three,
Too rappers, and there's still not enough emcees
It three, three, two, two, one, one
MCA, Ad-Rock, Mike D, how we get it done like

Ladies and attention, Nas in the house
Beastie Boys, we can turn it out
Perpetrators, we can 'em out
So if you got on your mind, let it out