Luyện nghe bài hát B.o.b. (bombs Over Baghdad)

1, 2, 1, 2, 3 yeah!
In-slum-national,
Thunder when I stomp the ground (Woo!)
Like a elephants with silverback orangutans
You can't a train
Who want some? Don't come
I'll be there, but I leave there
Better be a household
man tellin' us it ain't gon' rain
So now we sittin' in a drop-top, wet
In a silk suit, not to sweat
Hits somersaults the net
But this'll be the that we won't forget
One-Nine-Nine-Nine, Ano Domini, goes, be whatchu wanna be
Long as you know are given for livin, the fence is
too high to in jail
Too low to dig, I might just hell HOT!
Get a life, now they sell
Then I catch you a spell, look at what came in the mail
A scale and some Arm and Hammer, so grow grid and baby máma
Cadillac and a pack of pampers
Stack of question no answers
for cancer, cure for AIDS
Make a nigga wanna on tour for days
Get home, things are wrong
When I really it was bad all along
Before you adds up to a ball of power
Thoughts at a thousands per hour
Hello, ghetto, let your brain
Believe always mo', OW!

pull the thang out, unless you plan to bang
Bombs Baghdad!
Yeah! Ha ha yeah!
Don't even bang unless you to hit something
Bombs Baghdad!
Yeah!
Don't pull the thang out, unless you to bang
Bombs Baghdad!
Yeah! Ha ha yeah!
even bang unless you plan to hit something
Bombs Baghdad!
Yeah!

Uno, dos, tres, on
Did you ever think a pimp rock a
Like that there boi and will stay street
Big things every time we meet
Like a track team, crack fiend, to geek
Outkast bumpin' up and down the
Slam back, Cadillac, 'bout five deep
Seventy-five freestylin' to the beat
Cause we get krunk, stay drunk, at the
have bought an ounce, but you caught the dub
Should have held back, but you the punch
'Spose to meet girl but you packed a lunch
No D U to-the G for you
Got a son on the way by the name of
Got a little girl four year, Jordan
Never turn my back on my kids for
have hit it (hit it) quit it (quit it) rag (rag) top (top)
Before you up, get a laptop
Make a business for yourself, boy, set some
Make a fair diamond out of dusty
number four, but we on a roll
Hold up, slow up, stop,
Janet, planets, Stankonia's on ya
Movin like Floyd straight to Florida
Lock all your windows then the corridors
off a belt 'cause a whipping's in order
Like a three-piece 'fore I cut your daughter
Yo quiero Taco Bell, then I hit the
Penny pap tryin' to get the five
I'm a microphone fiend tryin' to stay
When you come to ATL boi you not hide
cause the Dungeon gon' ride, hah!

Don't pull the thang out, unless you to bang
over Baghdad!
Yeah! Ha ha yeah!
Don't even bang you plan to hit something
over Baghdad!
Yeah!
Don't pull the thang out, unless you to bang
over Baghdad!
Yeah! Ha ha yeah!
Don't bang unless you plan to hit something
Bombs Baghdad!
Yeah!

Bombs Baghdad! Yeah

B-I-G,

To the

Bob head, rag top
(1, 2, 1, 2, 3, 4) (Gimme some)

music, electric revival!