Luyện nghe bài hát Don't Front

Used to get, bent, now I represent to the
is full of insolent bullets
I'm like a Pinscher, Pitbull and a Rott'
Mixed a toxic, the plot begins to thicken
I begin to spitting like vintage Pac,
sinister, ever since the the Doc replenished me
The day he gave me that shot when I was just 'bout to
So to not see him with me be a shocking image
And I'm the definition of what a chin is
no matter how many times you sock me in it
And knock me to the canvas, the boxing critics
Know that if I get off to a rocky start, I'll have a Rocky finish
Eat me brocoli, spinach, Nope
But I hope I offended you when I told ya how dope I am at
And put on the "dope," so when names come up
In that conversation of who's the dopest, throw mine in it
And mind me, while I remind you of the flow
You won't find anywhere, where it fires and I unload my pen
'Til there's no rhymes in it, in no time
Let insults fly even sixty seconds go by, so you know I meant it
In school I was so shy,
Two of jeans I'd alternate, bummy clothes, I 'member
Begging my mom for K-Mart MacGregors they were new
St. Vincent de Paul, those Pony's used, and no size fitted
But them old days, adios, I did it
They I was a gimmick, now I'm the one that those guys mimic
Now you don't wanna go starting no argument
'Cause you know I'll win it, name a flow that's more authentic, and front

Don't front, you I got you open, kid
Don't front, you I got you open, kid
Don't front, you I got you open, kid
Don't front, you know I got you open,
front, you know I got you open, kid
Don't front, you I got you open, kid
Don't front, you I got you open, kid
Yo why you frontin', you I got you open, kid

Rest in piece to Big Proof, you was a beast, you mirrored me
my flow off of you, your spirit's flowing through me
I love you, Doody, without you I feel so
I'm no king, no need for rose petals to be thrown at my
I'm a thorn in side, get thrown into a throne
Better watch the fucking tone that you speak, feel like I'm in the
I'm in a different league on my mothafuckin' own, it's just me
No can compete, and I've never been known to retreat
From beef, beep-beep, follow trends or in defeat
I'm still as fuck, but can't even say bon appetit
'Cause I don't know what to eat, fucking microphone or the
Bitch, nobody's mind like mine
It's nose to the time, homes, your mind's blown
'Cause I like I'm still trying to get signed, up in the Ebony Showcase
With Denaun "Who the fuck passed you the mic?"
Never asked you like my shit the get
I'd rather ask you to wipe my ass,
You had you a nice run, now a hike
I meet my match, I'mma strike that bitch first
on the mic I gotta represent the real rappers
The rappers get their mothafuckin' skills cracking
Word to Buckshot and Dru-Ha, why the not?
You don't it? Suck a cock! Almost forgot
Before I signed with the Doc, I almost signed with Down
'Cause Rawkus make no offers, so mothafuck Loud
They jerked me around so what's up
Wow, how much of an would I sound like
Rubbing it and some grudge now, but don't front

Don't front, you I got you open, kid
Don't front, you I got you open, kid
front, you know I got you open, kid
Don't front, you I got you open, word
Don't front, you I got you open, kid
front, you know I got you open, kid
Don't front, you I got you open, kid
Yo why you frontin', you I got you open, kid

Late at night, used to a buzz, couldn't write
Now I write the type of to make you wipe
But diapers cause you might leave a streak
I'm on a windshield wipers couldn't wipe
It's hard to decipher what cypher I might jump tonight
'Cause I'm or something, needing someone or something is lighting
This fire me, it's breathing new life, it's like I already died once
I guess people only live twice, and it's funny
My days of being was so long ago, I lost my concept of money
But you dimes won't get a fucking from me
Oh shit, I'm down on one
I'm having a stroke of genius, I'm coming to you, honey
From boy to man, still make a whore moan like a thyroid gland
I'm in category, man, don't put me up with them pop stars
I never a pat on the back to get at a boy, band
No Yes offense, precedents has been set that'll never get met
Middle finger pressed against Moby's
Shouts to Obie, the closed on my show
(But never forget that I'm the one you thought wouldn't it)
You take it, oh
Got a whole generation of rappers coming up that are with the flow
But convince me you've
An MC since me who's this with the fucking mincing of words
Without mincing words that'll make you feel like I'm a nerve
Whose mentally disturbed, you as well stick a knife in me and turn
It'll be like my skin Indian burned
Hah, bitch isn't one, when will you learn?
Never served if memory serves
I'd battle that my own recollection remembers these words

You know I got you kid, stop fronting
You I got you open, Word Life