Luyện nghe bài hát One Time 4 For Your Mind

Yeah, illmatic, (yeah.)
illmatic, (yeah!)
illmatic, huh.
(Yeah, kick shit.)

(One time for mind, one time.)
Yeah, whatever.
(One time for mind, one time.)
Yo, whatever.
(One for your mind, one time.)
(Hey yo, Nas. (Whattup, Paul?) that fuckin' rhyme.)

it out.
When I'm chilling, I the Buddha, get my crew to buy beers,
And watch a flick, and root for the villain, huh.
Plus, morning, I go out and love it, sort of chilly,
Then I send a from my block to the store for phillies.
After being blessed by the essence
I'm to my rest, ten minutes, some odd seconds.
That's I got the honey at, spends the night for sexing,
Cheap lubrication, protection.
Picking up my stereo's control, quickly;
Ron G's in the cassette deck, the shit, G.
I try to stay mellow, rock, well, rhymes'll
me richer than a slipper made Cinderella, fella.
Go get your crew, Hobbes, I'm to bomb troops.
Got niggaz who's born, I my way out my mom dukes.
When I was ten, I was a hip-hoppin wop,
Known for rocking microphones and twisting off a top, yeah.

Nas (LP)]
(One for your mind, one time.)
Yeah, whatever.
(One for your mind, one time.)
It clever.
(Hey, yo, Nas, fuck that, man, shit was fat)
(But kick that for gangstas, man, fuck all that)

Right, right, what up niggaz, how y'all? Nasty, the villain.
I'm writin' rhymes, but besides that I'm chillin'.
I'm trying to get money, God, you know the hard times, kid.
Shit, cold be starvin', you want to do crimes, kid.
But I'm a lamp, 'cause a crime beat a rhyme.
Niggas catching to nines, Muslims yelling free the mind,
And I'm Queensbridge, been to many places.
As a kid, when I would say that out of town, chased us,
But now I know the time, got a mind.
control a nine, fine, see, now I represent mine.
I'm new on the rap scene, brothers never of me,
Yet I'm a meance, yo, want to murder me.
Heine(ken,) dark drinker, the thinker.
My pen the paper, it even has blinkers.
Think I'll dim the then inhale, it stimulates.
Floating like I'm on the north interstate.
Never to stop, when I write my hand is hot,
And expand a lot from the to Camelot.
The parlayer, I'll ya heads bop, Pah.
I shine a on perpetrators, like a cop's car.
From day to night, I play the mic, and you'll God.
I shit so much, the microphone need a paint job.
My is incarcerated.
Live at any jam, I count all the parks I raided.
I hold a Mac-11, and the Reverand.
I eleven L's, and max in heaven.

Yo, one for your mind, one time.

It clever.

But one time for mind, one time.

Yeah, whatever.

One for your mind, one time.

Yo, ninety-two to ninety-nine.

Yeah, that shit was greasy, fat Paul, what I'm saying?
But check it, you gotta verse for me?
I want you to kick it, you know what I'm
Kick that shit from the