Luyện nghe bài hát Slap Them Up

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

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

MC's get ate, get like a pretzel
And get dissed if they ever try to to
They can't take a MC with lips
Talk a lotta but sink no motherfuckin' ships

Lyrics make bigger than hollow tips
Watch another body get stiff
Just like in church, we the basket
As I over his casket

it, kick the body right over
And say, "See ya, hmm, to know ya"
Got rapper to see
Yo Kris, bust that ass

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

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

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

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

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

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

Your outreach is a breach of what I
For styles 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 looked hard
But you're a bitch, when you get it together
Call me, here's my
the list, you lack breath control, mental behavior
Lyrical talent, imagination and

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

you're yappin' like you can't be reached
If your name Arrested Development, save your speech
Time to ill, I got mad skills to
Not a fake, I got more styles than Drake's got Tasty

Gotta be the best Gee, try to test me
You'll get jacked son, even if name is not Jesse
be up front when I meet ya
Peace, uh, I'm the teacher

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

Do it, do, do, do it
Yo South Bronx, South South
South Bronx, South yo, Uptown
Brooklyn's in the house, lemme tell ya Staten Island
about Queens? Do it, do, do, do it, do it, do, do, do it