Luyện nghe bài hát B - Boy Bouillabaisse

There's a girl there
With long hair
I took her to the
I the mattress in her face
off her shirt
off her bra
Took off her
You know I saw?

Right about now I'd like to dedicate this out to my main homie Mike D
Get on the mic, on the mic
get on the mic, get on the mic, Mike

Let's be and don't cloud the issue
The rhymes are an M.C. you must listen to
People say they been missin' me and missin' you
Get on the mic and let's show them we used to
You say fuck that yo Holmes fuck
I'm the king Ad-Whammy you're Dick
One-half science and another soul
His Mike D. not Fat Morton Jelly Roll
Got busy in Frisco around in Fresno
Got over on your girlie you know she never says no

get on the mic, just get on the mic
G-get on the mic, get on the mic

Well, Mike D. is a individual
Pulling out knots and pulling in
Go to the get the Rolos
The riding slow and low
on the mic and bust with the solo
Mike my stromie don't be so
Get on the mic you know you eat shellfish

It's 4:00 a.m. got the Dr. Hfuhruhurr Ale
I've got to lose so I'm pissin' on the third rail
Groggy eyed and fried I'm headed for the
D-Train ride to Coney Island
Dedicated to the boofers in the back of the 1
be kicking out windows high on cocaine
And I jump the turnstile I lost my last token
between the cars pissing, smoking
Head for the car fluorescent light blackout
Policeman told my "yo put that crack out"
You know you light up when the go down
And then you read the New York Post Fulton St.
Same faces every day but you don't know their
Party people places on the D-Train

Stop train, I wanna get on

it
Trench-coat going to work
And you'll be pulling a train like Kirk
Pickpocket gangsters paying debts
I caught a bullet in the from Bernie Goetz
Overworked and underpaid staring at the
Prostitutes' spandex caught in the slide
Now you're tuck between the
And it seems like an
Sweating like sardines in a flophouse
Fifty-dollar fine for disturbing the
The neck your Lees are creased
Hot cup of coffee and the donuts are
Friday night and Queen's funkin'
Elevated platform never gonna
Riding over the diner where I always get my warm
Bust into the conductor's booth and out rhymes
Over the loud about the hard times
Sat across a man readin' El Diario
Riding the train down El Barrio
Went from the station to Orange Julius
I a hot dog from who - George Drakoulias

M.C. for I am and do
The A is for Adam and the lyrics,
So as pray and and the message is sent
And I am living in the dreams I have dreamt
Because I'm with the three, the unstoppable three
Me and Adam and D. born to M.C.
And my body and soul and are pure
Not polluted or or damaged beyond cure
Just lyrics I to you recited
Arrested, but cuffed and indicted
Enter the arena as I take center
The lights set low and the has come of age
Take the in hand as that I am a professional
Speak my knowledge to the and the ed. is special
For I am a but not the last one
I'm am the and this is my castle
Dwell in of now but vidi those of the past
Seen a glimpse from ahead and I don't think it's last
And you can bet ass

I drop the L. when I'm
I'm smoking and
I put the on the roof almost every single weekend
stop the mind-fuck when it's rolling along
Can't stop the smooth runnin' the shit's running strong
Broke my bindings, the lion with
Preaching his word in the B. Boy
I am one myself as I turn to thee
Prefer the dreams to
I prefer my life don't need no other wife
Don't need no crazy lifestyle with and strife
But good to have turn to be a king for a day
Or for a week, or for a year, or for a and a day
Come may

I'm fishing with my boat and I'm for trout
Mix the Ale with the Guinness Stout
for a line inside my brain
And looking out at the world through my pane
day has many colors 'cause the glass is stained
Everything has changed but the same
So again the mirror raised and I see myself as clear as day
And I am to the limits of my ultimate destiny
as though somebody were testing me
He who sees the end from the beginning of
Looking through all the ages
Is, was and shall be
Check the prophetic of the pages

He's in line for the Day

Hello

New York, New York, a hell of a town
You the Bronx is up and I'm Brooklyn down
Because don't know my name they only know my initials
Building bombs in the attic for officials
I my job, I cut my hair
You know I cut my 'cause I don't care
You to get slick, you bust a little chuckle
You're gonna get smacked with my knuckle
'Cause being as fly as me is something you thought of
be sticking up old ladies with the hand gun or the sawed-off
I'm a Buffalo Soldier, broader than
Keep keepin' on I don't care they say
I play my loud it disturbs my neighbors
I want to enjoy the of my labor
'Cause I am the holder of the 3-pack
If you open the then you will get your hand slapped
I am the keeper of the Bonanza
If you ask a you will get the answer
Her breast I saw I I felt
M-O-N-E-Y, the
I at home just like a hermit
I got the jammy but I don't got the
You know
You got a boyfriend and his name is Slick
Annabelle caught with the shrimpy limp
I ride town 'cause my ride is fly
I a man in Brooklyn
to watch him die

He thrusts his fists against the post and still insists he sees a
He thrusts his against the post and still insists he sees a ghost
She's slippin' through his fingers as movin' out to the coast
He thrusts his fists against the post and still insists he sees a

if your world was all black and if your world was all white
Well then you wouldn't get much color out of now right
Nicknamed Shamrock but my name is not
on the tippy cause my homie is famous
My is not O'Houigheighi nor is it Brian
If I said that I was now, you know I'd be lyin'
try to bite they try to pursue it

You to a musician, they know it but they can't do it

I got Chinese eyes and Chinese
Smokin' much Buddha and smokin' much
More on the hip-hop lingo
My favorite New York Knick was Hawthorne
Met a girl at a party and I her my card
Man, you know that it said Napoleon
Peepin' out the colors I be on Cezanne
call me Mike D Joe Blow the Lover Man
Your face red as your glass of wine
you spilled on my lyrics as you wasted my time
You should be with me, you drop that bum
I got more flavor than Fruit Striped Gum
With big round butt of yours
I'd like to butter your muffin I'm not
Serve you on a platter Thanksgiving stuffin'

Here's one for y'all to peep
It's called on the M-I-C

I met girl last night with a peculiar cackle
I laid the bait and then she the tackle
Had too much to at the Red Lobster
Now the room is spinning around like the of a helicopter
I never met a girl that was too
If the press has their way then going to finish me
You might know this but you've been this see
If I ate spinach I'd be called Spinach D
I shed light cats shed fur
around town like Raymond Burr
I'm so high they call me Your Highness
So if you don't know me then pardon my
I in the Village wherever I go I walk to
I keep my friends around so I have to talk to
I play my music loud because you it's got clout to it
a trip it's got a funky beat and I can bug out to it

DJ
When D's in the house, what you gonna do
I go
Adrock's in the house, you gonna do
I go
MCA's in the house, what you gonna do
I go
When in the house, what you gonna do
He AWOL
St. in the house, what's you gonna do
Home-1, what you do
Got busy in the house, you gonna do
Dust Bros. in the house, you gonna do
G. in the house, what you gonna do
Lou Gains in the house, what you do
crew, what you gonna do
John Mish in the house, what you do
Killa Cutty in the house, you gonna do
J. in the house
Pat in the house
Richard in the house
Good Amsterdamn
Now I want you all to this down
To all the
All the