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 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

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

On and on until the crack of
Until the year and beyond
up all night, and I emcee and never die
'Cause death is the of sleep

Because I'm back a bang boogie, oogie oogie
letter 23 like Shuggie
Oh, my God, look at me
Grandpa been since '83

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

I carte blanche, the vagabond
Nas is the narcissist, my are rotund
I'm no killa, but compared to you, I'm more
You ain't a shot, a mobster, or a drug

A peeler, you're not, mafioso, no
You ain't got the cutthroat in ya,
I tryin' to hear your racket
You work with dog, you snitch, you rat, you wear that jacket

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

Like rum in mojitos, bullets and
Matzah in soup, jackets and troop
Yes, y'all, is one for the history books
Nasty Nas, what's the word, count it off on the

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

Ladies and gents attention, Nas in the
Beastie Boys, we can turn 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 bullshit straight out the frame
My lyrics spin like a hurricane twister
So get hologram on off of Wolf Blitzer

Too many rappers to shake a at
I outta charge a tax for every rap
I had to listen to 'cause we be stacks
Like Stax Records, my we gotta pack, we never coming whack

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

The golden microphone, that's mine to hold
And why all these biters all up in my crotch
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 tape recorder, oratorials all day
I'm just getting started on this beat, is foreplay
And when this song finished, y'all can along with this

By the way, I have a fetish for Christian Louboutin steppers
I Russian blonde's the wettest
But anyway, I pay homage to my fellas
And that's what's on my and the rhyme, who's next up?

Mike D, the man of
History in the makin', and now takin'
Titles, awards, and
Scarin' the as I sharpen my blades

We come together like peanut butter and
Like pen and paper, like Picasso and
stadiums and shitty 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 somethin' on mind, let it out