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?
Stealing my light, huh? Watch me, duke, me

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

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

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

We split a fair one, poker nose
Gin with glare, spot the lame, bit his ear
Yo, you a tea-spoon, 300 goons, stash balloons
Locked in lab rooms, hit glock, stashed in Grant's Tomb
Clocked him like a patient, his stock's full, hustle
Knowing now, we cocked a off, the chain tri-color
in valor, ice-sicle galore
Gas station gleaming on the wall
Cop WiseGuy jams, James Bond
Niggas flipped Timbs, rock boats under water, clams
at the stand-off, mad timid
hoping the gun fall, guess him like lottery balls, yo

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