Luyện nghe bài hát Apollo Kids

Uh-huh, uh-huh, motherfucker,
Yeah, I see that, I see
All y'all fake 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 want word with
Kid who punked out bust a shot up in the
Catch me in the corner not
Crushed out heavenly, U.G. rock the daddy long fox minks
Chicken and broccoli, Wally's stinky
With his man straight from Durham, he recognized Kojak
I slapped him five, Killa cracked his tiny form
Everybody break bread, around
Guzzle that, I'm about to throw a in your bag
Since the face been revealed, game got
Radio been gassing niggas, my impostors they ill
I'm the inventor, '86 rhyming at the
Debut '93 LP you to Enter
Punk niggas stealing my light
up in the bed with grandma,
beneath the where ya hid ya knife
Ghost is back, stretch Cadillac's, cocktails
Hit the at Paul's Pastry Rack
Walk with me 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 tell too, I'm the ultimate
splash the Wolverine Razor Sharp ring,
student in holding it

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

A of bright phat yellow Air Max
Hit the racks, 'em up Son, $20 off no tax
Street merchant tucked in the cloud, splurging
a eagle head, 6-inch height was the bird
Monday night Dallas Jets, dudes slid in with one hand
Two culture-ciphers, one bag of wet
Heavy fucked my kicks up
looking, splashed in the puddle
Bitch laughing, first thought was beat the up
off gracefully, New York's most wanted tee-ball hawk
Seen the yellow road, lust of pastries
Same Ghostface, holy in the
scene, Manhattan Chase
We drew the six-eight in the briefcase
Rawness, title is
Quick to around faces, surround look astound

We split a fair one, poker nose
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 a patient, his stock's full, hustle invasion
Knowing now, we a block off, the chain tri-color
Freezing in valor, ice-sicle
Gas station light on the wall
Cop WiseGuy jams, Bond vans
Niggas flipped Timbs, rock boats water, watch clams
at the stand-off, mad timid
hoping that the gun fall, guess him lottery balls, yo

Hey yo, this rappin's Ziti, facin me real 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, Apollo kids live to the real