Luyện nghe bài hát Professor Booty

Yes, I got more bounce than the bump
And then you want to why because I'm motherfuckin' truckin'
I'm in the pocket just Grady Tate
Got supplies of beats so you have to wait
I'm the master blaster, drinking up the shasta
My sounds sweet 'cause it has to (looking good!)
So a match to my ass 'cause I'm blowin' up
I'd to thank the people for just showin' up
But now I want y'all to it
Put your point on the floor and just it
And I'm smurfin', not rehearsin', gettin' live,
A little puffy, so you know what, I'm doin'
'Cause that's the kind of of mind I'm in
I got this feelin' that it's again
So touch me, 'cause I'm electric
And if you me, you'll get shocked

You got, you got, you got, you got, you got
You've got the boomin' system, but it's sloshing out
You think it's milk, but it's watered down Yoo-hoo
I've been through many times in which I I might lose it
The only thing that saved me, has always music
got our own studio, the Son of the G
It's no question, life's good to me
'Cause life ain't nothing but a groove
A mixtape to put you in the right mood
This one out to my man, the Groove Merchant
Coming through with beats for which been searching
Like two copies, of Expansions
I'm like Tom Vu with and mansions
The logo I is the face of the monkey
Union made, Ben Davis-quality, no junk, see?
My chrome is shining, like an icicle
I ride town in my low-rider bicyle

So many wack emcees, you get the TV
even gonna call out your names, 'cause you're so wack
And one big oaf, faker than plastic
A dictionary of the word spastic
You should have never started that you couldn't finish
'Cause writin' rhymes to me is like to spinach
I'm bad ass, move ya' fat ass, 'cause wack, son
Dancing around like you think Janet Jackson
Thought you could walk on me to get some ground to on
I'll put the rug out under your ass as I on
I'll you out like a sniper on a roof
Like an emcee at the fever in the DJ
your headphones strapped, you're rockin' rewind/pause
Tryin' to figure out what you can do to go for
But like a to a paper, I got more to come
One another, you can all get some
So you better your time, and meditate on your rhyme
your shit'll be stinkin' when I go for mine
And right, y'all, don't get uptight, y'all
You say shit because you're biting what I write, y'all
And that's wrong, y'all, the long haul
You can't cut the mustard when fronting it all