Luyện nghe bài hát U Can't Handle This

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Bắt đầu làm bài nào

You would if you could but you can't so you

The minute I step in dis bitch, I hear, oh shit, mothafucka,
Watch out for dat nigga, you can't handle 'em for a of time
No one can match rhymes to mine I'm top of the line
Prickin' ass like a porcupine, I know what to do
To knock your ass so bad it ain't no challenge this ain't
No mothafuckin' fluke, this deep talent

I'm gifted, explicit and explicit brand new home
Same old nigga, I ain't with you bitches, why you niggaz
Be rappin' like scared and unprepared, I'm gonna've ya'
Leave this mothafucka sayin' what'd that mothafucka
the bud, the weed I puff like Elvis and the Beetles
That gets blazed, then a couple soft MC's on and needles

that got beef with me better bring a heater or either bow
Down to me, cut off you dick, Jesus, thats the
I'm fuckin' niggaz, wasup with dem niggaz, dats talkin' shit
You better go fuck wit nigga
U cant this

Oh shit, mothafucka, goddamn, oh shit, mothafucka,
Oh shit, mothafucka, goddamn, oh shit, mothafucka,
Oh shit, mothafucka, goddamn, oh shit, mothafucka,
Oh shit, mothafucka, goddamn, oh shit, mothafucka,

Certified Rhyme Busta, bitch nigga, bitch nigga, same
If I'm not that nigga, but that nigga punks still come with
The rif-raf, went from gold diggin', to chains
I went Club Train, Ta Soul Train fightin' like a Wild Coyote
Capone, hot seller, keep your fuckin' deck deader
Then a bad woodpecker, I like niggaz tryin' to run up on my shit
And set, I'm the on the caterpillar

I'll kill ya, catch more attention then oriental peacocks
Phat rhymes, hot tracks, a room of Reeboks, I've got the gift
That'll make a bitch get off me spent like Barkley so bitch
Don't start me, who's click use to be mobbin' in my hood
Beware, here I go, get that boy good, like, there I was
were y'all idiots in the cut I raise the hacksaw, you jump back
Now y'all don't want no trouble, can't stop us

I know y'all nigga know better than to wit the man
ya, don't ya, nigga don't you know what my style can't be poached
And every nigga around, probably got beef wit somebody but
The same between the fighters, I ain't got it I ain't got it
When rules, will be the day my legs start to shake

Another nigga, couldn't off throw me on skates, I'm the
The on your fire, got 'em dodge 'em Michael Tyler
The drunken fighter y'all niggaz can't do I do man fuck that, nigga
Now you, good Lord, the Rhymes come through
So hardcore bitch, I got it if you bad to take it, it's yours

A lyrical ass is what I'm cookin' hungry, spittin' all over
Your room when you wasn't lookin' no canibus
The wrong nigga, with da mess you get the like Rambo bitch
You can't this