Luyện nghe bài hát Rasta Imposter

What you got to do with it? What the fuck you talkin
What the fuck you got to do with it? You stupid nigga? You
Did you see that video, Fuck wrong with you? Like you don't,
you don't know what you go to do with it. Like fuckin insane or
something. (You fuckin ass nigga)
(laughing in background)
One]
Y'all faggots is weak, y'all niggas think shit is sweet
That signal bullshit is dead up in the street
that garbage dough jam, made me reminisce
On when heard your man's wack shit and went to up his
Jealous faggot man I'm richer than y'all
When I load my desertees, I'm picturin
On the streets of where I was raised and born, hardcore
And stood on every like a liquor store
Clips full of hollowtips, follow loose
Aimin at clique and make em cough up my chips
Bitch, ya wanna see if I'm ill?
Wanna see how many rappers can be killed, how blood can spill?
I inject this lyrical drill, if I can't do it, the dumb-dumbs

Tell that nigga to his man to tell that nigga
I send the wolves to kill nigga
If you wanna know why, its cause I'm still nigga
Jordan of all this rap shit, pullin the trigger
What the fuck? You on a to self-destruct
And have the nerve to let the model cluck
Your swervin nigga, better the white lines
up on the sidewalk, off course, read the sign
I'm so ill, niggas is so wack
Your whole crew is such, y'all lack the impact
Far as your man go, I got young niggas that get him
him like a Philly, wet'im and split'im

L.L. lose niggas, we can do it however you choose nigga
One on one or round up the crews
But you out your shoes nigga
You the rules nigga!

[Verse
Queens shit, give me cream so I can my dick
Sew that shit, the fuck y'all niggas workin with?
Backwards, ass-jerk, up out the woodwork
Ridin my meat, to critique my physique
A real nigga wouldn't even my lips
Can't believe you went there, no I you a bitch
Sugar-coated nigga, deep-throated
Young guns take a pull before they quote a
Yeah, I wrote it for all my real live devoted niggas
I'm a true and livin lyrically ill poet
So you talkin bout? That shits supposed to be hot?
Y'all niggas on the warpath, y'all takin over my
I think not, of fact your not aloud to rap no more
And if you this in the club sneak out the backdoor
And if you bumpin in your ride make your windows is up
and your passed the limit
So don't know a faggot's in it!
I'm L.L. and I did to you
Teflon for every nigga runnin with you
Rhymes hit you, lace you up again and you
Niggas ain't official thats why Mom miss you
your man bring it on, I'm only gettin warm
Never die, never quit, and my money's
Punk ass nigga, talkin bout his lips
Constantly involvin my name with bullshit!
Why I diss You stepped up in the ring
Ice in the video like you the next Don King
And tell your man I know he got some lyrics in the
But I'm the best that did it, now get this motheruckin ass
too hot to hold, leave it in the sand
So I can the picture with both hands
You not understand who's in command
I got all the flavor, but y'all is mad bland

[Verse
I'll cut your head off and leave it on your mom's dresser
Then pay the pope a hundred to go and bless her
You wanna test a lyrical and professor?
I bet niggas fall off now that your under pressure
I don't stress ya, yet still I must ya
Extort niggas for fucked up, stop and inspect ya
Fuck wrong with you nigga? You can't do to me
If I put a slug in you on the low, probably try to sue me
Your girl blew me, I "Now!" She said "Do me"
Bust a nut in her face on to let the crew see
Can't put dirt roll, poppin shit
Underestimantin what niggas'll do for chips
I originated all this
The ice, the champagne, the on the dick
That don't apply to you crabs in a barrel
Mic's my staff sendin you a message Pharaoh
Leave it or get swallowed in the sea
The King of Hiphop is something you never be
My crown you'll never see, rule forever, G
I'll be goin when you just a memory
I'm the double L, capital C, O
With the seven upside down slayin the clown
the fuck wrong wit y'all niggas? You out your mind nigga?
You try to go beg Lauryn to come back or something
wrong with you?