Luyện nghe bài hát What You Got

Y'all niggaz make a nigga like me laugh,
what the fuck? yea, yea.. chargin niggaz
yea, yea.. behold the only thing than yourself

(Verse 1)
slash ya grill, don't start me
You'll be the only entertainer with groupies than Biz Markie
I'm dull, Chino the pretty thug, style centerfold,
I'll every latin in the country aimin at ya skull
aim it at the Pope if he claimin he sellin the most dope
My Jersey blocks is tighter than prisoners hold soap
And listeners where we out ya CD and vinyl, the final result
Yell, fuck tricks and smoke, till our vocals combine a Colt
playin this in every club, whip, party and bar you in
Give you more blood clots two jamaicans arguin
Sweat till ya silver platinum chains is tarnishin
Women shakin ovaries, look what we accomplishin, what..

(Chorus)
We got lyrics than you got "What You Got?"
We got bitches than you got "What You Got?"
We run with more killas you got "What You Got?"
We got better than you got "What You Got?"
We got better than you got "What You Got?"
We got better bitches you got "What You Got?"
We run with more than you got "What You Got?"
We got better than you got "What You Got?"

(Verse 2)
to kill me, I cant hear that
Fear is a stimulus I haven't programmed to feel yet
Snatch you your Roots like I'm from Illadelph
I do to push your hairline back, Rogaine wont help
My Quest for the Wealth, like Stone Cold Austin's quest for the
I mention myself as a celestial cell, an extension of
At a lynching I smile, cut myself down, your guest list
My style never a like they do black men in Texas
Next to mention this, I'ma show them the real threat
Cause ride till my daughters like "Daddy are we there yet?"
Ain't no priest in the streets, drugs before miracles
See more keys than a lot of Hammer's repossessed
you I was coming, you ain't believe I'm assumin
If we all super heroes, these bitch niggaz be Wonder Women
Fist to fist, skin to skin, I make you flat
Brat little niggaz, the tat on my shoulder cover they whole
Cant hold back, splatter whole rap to match my ((?))
Shittin on MC's, wipin my ass on notebooks
How the broke crooks in leave me stressed
I'll on channel 2 if I wanna CBS, bitch

(Chorus w/ variation)

(Verse 3)
Least but not last, I'll an informant
Until he has the to put end to his torment
Now shine up the for his coffin
I'm last of the rawest, my passion ain't
mastered the forces, I rap to the chorus,
My cast is enormous, I'm and I'm cautious
Twenty inch stronger than forklifts
Smoke hash in of reporters till I choke and they nauseous
And through the glass of your Porsche's
Show you how is as hard as divorces
Lay you out dead in the on the forest
My craft is flawless, have ya flesh wrapped in a blackened
Blood Splashed across it for rhymin a fag in a cordless
all witnesses, nosey, standing on porches,
Like torches, super human, Chino's skin never
Drape your reunion in black funeral mourners
Have cats sell ya drugs for you, avoid usual corners
I never lost this mad lust to be rap's
Breakin companies, Jersey got strapped inside they office
I got.. DJ Supporters and makin sex offers
I got.. A crib like a fortress, tuition for all my
I got.. Rhymes hot like sauna's, and thousands from Warner
I got.. Killas on every corner, by jewish lawyers
what what..

(Chorus w/ variation)