Luyện nghe bài hát Slap Them Up

Tellin' it like it is, right about now D.J.
Is in the house and shit
Ya know what I'm sayin'? But yo, yo Kris, run shit
Ya know what I'm That, that shit, my joint
Run motherfucker, it's only right kid

(Do it, do, do, do it)
Drop that bass line, you want
We ya lyrics, check it out now, one time
(Do it, do, do, do it)

When we come in all de dance 'nuff D.J.'s up, woy
Gal, ya come slap them up
When we come in all de dance D.J.'s shut up, woy
Ill will, them up

MC's get ate, get broken like a
And get if they ever try to step to
They take a MC with loose lips
Talk a lotta but sink no motherfuckin' ships

Lyrics bigger holes than hollow tips
Watch rapper body get stiff
like in church, we pass the basket
As I preach over his

Fuck it, kick the body over
And say, "See ya, hmm, to know ya"
Got another to see
Yo Kris, that ass certainly

If you're get off the pot
Let the original rapper the spot
You stand and jock, goin'
This is ludicrous, what can you do to Kris

Chattin' foolishness, along quick with that stupidness
It's me rippin' this for self, where else ya
I got more than all the Jamaicans in Brooklyn
So beat it or be seated, Gee I'm mad

Young boy, you can't see me, run and make pee-pee
I was rockin' rhymes 'La-Di-Da-Di' was a demo
Admit you been on my tip for years and can't seem to let go
Go, go call mother, tell her you wanna battle KRS quick
I bet the minute you get home you'll get ass whipped

ill mad styles is what I give 'em
Not a run of the mill 'em, I 'em, I got ridiculous rhythm
None of my you can get with 'em
Still um, will um, your crew get some so I can kill 'em

Well, I roll by but don't let it fool ya
If I got beef my crew'll step to ya
We don't play no games, come straight to your rest
Lift up your shirt and blast you in your chest, well, was fresh

A fad doesn't the bill, but mad skills will
Don't let me have to you kid, God forbid still
Greed will lead your need to
But speed, your speech

outreach is a breach of what I teach
For lyrical you're a leech
If I was I'd say, "You lie like a beech"
Wow, wow, wow, wow, wow, wow, wow, wow, wow, wow

Wow, for a amateur you really hard
But really a bitch, when you get it together
me, here's my card
Check the list, you lack breath control, mental
talent, imagination and flavor

I got no for amateur rhyme, you could be hurt
Thinkin' you're hard you wear a gangsta T-Shirt
I'll smash wanna-be ass in the deep dirt
Black, you'll come up dizzy sayin', "How da he do dat?"

'Cause you're yappin' like you be reached
If your name ain't Arrested Development, save your
to ill, I got mad skills to fill
Not a fake, I got more styles than got Tasty Cakes

Gotta be the Gee, don't try to test me
You'll get jacked son, even if your name is not
Let's be up when I meet ya
Peace, uh, I'm the teacher

When we come in all de 'nuff D.J.'s shut up, woy
Gal, will ya slap them up
When we in all de dance 'nuff D.J.'s shut up, woy
Gal, ya come slap them up

Do it, do, do, do it
Yo South Bronx, South South
South Bronx, South yo, Uptown
in the house, lemme tell ya 'bout Staten Island
What about Do it, do, do, do it, do it, do, do, do it