Luyện nghe bài hát 2 Minutes & 21 Seconds Of Funk

Yeah, fuck all niggaz
You know I'm talkin' about Wino, yeah
Two minutes and twenty-one seconds of funk and I no punk
That's right, right

A a tasket that's all you ask it
Snap your CD and drop the pieces in casket
Like little Jack Horna', I'm bendin' corners
shots on your block, I'm sippin' on Corona's

Uh, your McDonald had a farm with a on suicide
Sittin' in the barn no alarm
Straight up collected it, cool and
Crowbar in my hand and my skeleton brick still like a charm

the rawest? My shit is flawless
Had to be out bruises, lacerations and broken jawses
wanna floss you better understand who's the boss
Before I do a Jackson and cut your shit off

Part of the penitentiary still, your grill
I keep on keepin' it right, you keep on keepin' it real
I'll bring the treble and the bass to delapatate your
Coolio's on the case, get yo hoe out my face,

Lodi Dodi, I know karate, but I know a razor
And none of can't fade me
I know you wanna try to me and busta's wanna playa hate me
I'm one of the dopiest niggaz out I guess why they hate me

'Cause I slang hits like niggaz Slang
I remain like khakis, I that's why they mad at me
On a record you might outgat me but you outrap me
My shit is and yo shit need a little bit more better

Freestyle in unrestricted or method
Free funk readily selected, so check it
Uh, dip diver, socializer, been rockin'
These microphones since nineteen seventy-niner

And by the time that this nappy head nigga retire
I'ma be at the old age of forty-eight or forty-niner
My shit is wise, CPT MC for
My name ain't Rick James but I'll your ass with a fire

So, what's your desire baby
Is it hands wrapped around or fingers wrapped around triggas?
Eitha' way it go I'm and I'm dippin'
Still tennis shoe pimpin', 40 in position

Fee-Fi-Fo-Fum, now nigga I'm a
And yo ass is like Jack, but yo beans is wack
is what you lack I'm like a Benz, you ain't even like Cadillac
You're more a Regal I'ma pit bull, and you's a Beagle

I'm set to strangle hangin' at all angles
As their legs start to
Dance around everybody Mr. Bo Jangles
Los Angeles, Compton, Long Beach, and Carson
with the Watts I'm sendin' out shout outs

I to drink Old Gold now I just stroll
Straight to the exit of my neighborhood liquor store
Huh, and you know what make me laugh,
your mama want my autograph