Luyện nghe bài hát De Automatic

Some fear de
it out

Some de automatic, yes de automatic
Disrespect, MC's, me nah go have it
De automatic, get de
Tonight a rapper die

Crazy MC's waste they time millions
KRS-One, holds the minds of the children
I'm a followin' of a hundred and forty-four thousand
Chosen few heads up in housin'

A rapper, street rapper, rappin' to the center
I enter any cipher, with tales of
If are ridin' beats like cars, I'm bendin' mad fenders
Put your mic and surrender

a pretender, Blastmaster KRS rules the pavement
Kickin' Edutainment while you wait for arraignment
Save it friend your chest I cave it in
I got my way again, I'm classical like a fuckin' Davidson

How do you I kick a lyrical style no and you figure
It's simple, I'm a rap God, and youse a
Don't I'm bigger, it simply means I'm smarter
For starters, I come at you harder

De automatic, get de
Disrespect, from MC's, me nah go it
De automatic, get de
Tonight a rapper die

Ha hah, ass rapper, how you think you got juice?
When you rock a pair of panties underneath bubblegoose
KRS-One will up parties dramatically
My reflex'll slap a wack automatically

When you was home witcha mother, afraid of the
I was sleepin' out in Prospect
Eatin' one meal 48 hours
Writin' dope styles that you now devour

you realize, that I'm all about survival
I got only friends I killed all my rivals
Show up at the rhyme recitals, they titles
From eighty-six to ninety-six completes my first

De automatic, get de
Disrespect, MC's, me nah go have it
De automatic, get de
Tonight a gwan die

I spent 40 and 40 nights in the wilderness
I'm hard, from head to toe yo ain't no killin' this
I over 100 rap hooks
And books, while you worried about your looks

Now you enter the dragon in sound
But I've got the club show locked down
Platinum and gold don't hold in my
You gots to keep it real on the mic, when see ya

I manifest, in the the East and overseas
The vision in rap is wack and I know of these
I represent New York to be
The Bronx, but in Japan I'm still gifted

I grab a jet and land on your set, what the
Twenty for a rap show is still, twenty bucks
I from eighty-six and bring you into ninety-six
No gimmicks, or lip-sync lyrics

De automatic, get de
Disrespect, from MC's, me nah go it
De automatic, get de
Tonight a gwan die

Yeah yeah, the God Fat Joe
Representin' the South Bronx
With my nigga Kris, off frauds
Motherfuckers do what?
Big out to my nigga Kenny Parker
Ill Will, BDP for life nigga
Gotto, the Big French productions
Of course the TAT crew, my nigga
The T.S. crew, and the Godsville
Bronx represent nigga, uhh
The Bronx, the South South Bronx
South Bronx, the South Bronx
Yeah, uhh