Luyện nghe bài hát 40 Acres and My Props

Showbiz got props, me who got the props?
A.G. got props, tell me who got the
Give me my for '92
It's me and and this is what we gonna do
Give you some now, some for later
a portion, ayo Show, kick the flavor

Record try and juice me, for what? For my papers
The offer me a and what else? And 40 acres
I'm dissing snakes now, there's no time to catch the
And I'm not a pup, for A Muppet caper

And all the groupies get free with the quickness
And Show concentrate and only thinks business
I a sellout because he put me in a rage
I play KRS and throw that ass off the

So me my props because I always stay clever
And ain't nothing changed but the
Get your act together 'cause I got together
Please don't front on the brother the Pelle Pelle leather

I'm Show B I Z, my A.G.
Chill with Greg N I C E or my D R E S
And what's up to Lord
And I'd like to shouts to my peeps Shorty and Wes
say, I'm soup, crazy cash, I recoup
Nowadays I just troop in my green Coupe

companies try to juice me for my papers
They me a mule and about 40 acres
They try to gain from my
Push me towards the dotted line but you I didn't sign

know straight up when we meet
Interfere with my career, then back to the streets
bang or the pow pow
I settle the beef the best way I how

Release the beast if I'm not taking care
Rap is my career and it's my only way here
Every chance I do
And I manage to use all the to my advantage

All that is cool but the brain is the
my props so we all can rule
Don't show off my skills, I just 'em
And now you're on my props
Wake up you wrinkle 'em

my props, yo, more than a cop, yo
'Til I master hip hop, I stop, yo
my props yo, more than a cop, yo
'Til I master hip hop, I stop, yo

Gimme my props, yo, than a cop, yo
'Til I master hip hop, I stop, yo
Gimme my props, yo, than a cop, yo
'Til I master hip hop, I won't

say BMW's a black man's wish
I wish for an SP-1200 and some
Negativity the least, material's is
Saying peace to the brothers in the of the beast

People saying, "Why Show rhyme?"
I didn't wanna get back and do Fed
I wanna live right and exact, I don't be a fat cat
Off the crack and the Feds down my back
If the money's stacked, a step back, black
Or you'll be wearing four four numbers a quarterback

I was one deep by Mom dukes and no Dad
And now I a number, 2 pencil and a pad
Or Erasermate, if I make I erase
And me and go digging in the crates

Where's my 40 acres? Not the projects of
I asked for a mule, I got an iron
Shit on as the song plays
Can a devil a Muslim? Nah, not nowadays

On mark, get set, pass the 40, let's jet
A fat rhyme is you want, a fat rhyme is what you'll get
It's thorough from to end
The beat is phat, what can I say? Show you did it

I got the hat on my head, on my behind
on my back and money on my mind
I don't sweat the stress, the bitter with the sweet
Did I let you know I the Tims on my feet?

You my stats when I came around
Saying, "Damn, he's living fat", when I haven't gained a pound
Friends til the end, never will I ya
My people's R.I.P., you I'm gonna miss ya
40 and my props, the name of the song
A.G. is saying and I'm gone

my props, yo, more than a cop, yo
'Til I master hip hop, I stop, yo
my props, yo, more than a cop, yo
'Til I hip hop, I won't stop, yo

Gimme my props, yo, more a cop, yo
'Til I hip hop, I won't stop, yo
Gimme my props, yo, more a cop, yo
'Til I hip hop, I won't stop

Yeah, Showbiz, yeah, A.G,
Showbiz, yeah, A.G