Luyện nghe bài hát Apollo Kids

Uh-huh, uh-huh, motherfucker,
Yeah, I see that, I see
All y'all motherfuckers up in the joint, huh?
my light, huh? Watch me, duke, watch me

Yo, check these up top
Snowy in the bezzle as the cloud
F.B.I. try and word with this
Kid who punked out bust a up in the beacon
Catch me in the corner not
Crushed out heavenly, U.G. the sweet daddy long fox minks
Chicken and broccoli, Wally's look
With his man straight from Raleigh Durham, he Kojak
I slapped him five, Masta Killa his tiny form
break bread, huddle around
Guzzle that, I'm to throw a hand in your bag
the face been revealed, game got real
Radio gassing niggas, my impostors scream they ill
I'm the inventor, '86 at the center
Debut '93 LP you to Enter
Punk fagot stealing my light
up in the bed with grandma,
beneath the La-Z-Boy where ya hid ya
is back, stretch Cadillac's, fruit cocktails
Hit the shells at Paul's Pastry
with me like Darthy tried to judge these
plush degrees, said the cow, the fees
Getting all through the drive-through
Take the stand, throw my hand all on the
and lies too, I'm the ultimate
splash the Wolverine Sharp ring, dolomite
student in role it

Hey yo, this like Ziti, facin me real TV
at high-speeds, strawberry, kiwi
As we approach, yo herb, the bail
These Staten Island ferryboat bail
Fresh cellies, 50 thief up in the
We for life, Apollo kids live to spit the real

A pair of bright phat Air Max
Hit the racks, 'em up Son, $20 off no tax
Street tucked in the cloud, stay splurging
Rock a head, 6-inch height was the bird
Monday night Dallas verse Jets, dudes in with one hand
Two culture-ciphers, one bag of wet
rain fucked my kicks up
Wasn't looking, in the puddle
Bitch laughing, first thought was the bitch up
Mossied off gracefully, New York's most wanted hawk
Seen the yellow brick road, of pastries
Ghostface, holy in the mind
Last scene, Manhattan
We the six-eight digit in the briefcase
Rawness, is Hell-bound
Quick to around faces, surround look astound

We split a one, poker nose money
Gin rummy glare, spot the lame, bit his ear
Yo, you taste a tea-spoon, 300 goons, balloons
Locked in lab rooms, hit with glock, in Grant's Tomb
Clocked him like a patient, his stock's full, invasion
Knowing now, we cocked a block off, the tri-color
Freezing in valor, galore
Gas station light on the wall
Cop WiseGuy jams, James vans
flipped Timbs, rock boats under water, watch clams
pose at the stand-off, mad
hoping that the gun fall, him like lottery balls, yo

Hey yo, this rappin's like Ziti, me real TV
at high-speeds, strawberry, kiwi
As we approach, yo herb, the bail
These Staten ferryboat cats bail
Fresh cellies, 50 up in the city
We for life, Apollo kids live to spit the real