Luyện nghe bài hát Too Many Rappers

Mic check, mic

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
With Boys, we can turn it out
Perpetrators, we can 'em out
So if you got on your mind, let it out

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

On and on the crack of dawn
Until the year 3000 and
up all night, and I emcee and never die
'Cause death is the cousin of

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

Oh, I'm supersonic J.J. Fad
Got ass shit pullin' out the bag
forget the tartar sauce, yo, 'cause it's sad
All these crap rappers, they're like crabs

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

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

How many must get dissed
Gimme eight bars, and me bless this
I start to reminisce, oh, I miss
The hip hop with which I persist

Like rum in mojitos, and banditos
Matzah balls in soup, and troop
Yes, y'all, this is one for the books
Nas, what's the word, count it off on the hook

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

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

'Cause this the type of lyric goes inside brain
To blow you rappers straight out the frame
My lyrics 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 'cause we be stacks
Stax Records, my squad we gotta pack, we never coming whack

To all you crab rappers and
And Circuit Fenders, splendor
I take the cake, I stole the

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

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

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

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

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

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

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