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

1, 2, 1, 2, 3 yeah!
In-slum-national,
Thunder pounds when I stomp the (Woo!)
Like a million with silverback orangutans
You can't a train
Who want some? Don't un-pre-pared
be there, but when I leave there
Better be a name
Weather man tellin' us it ain't rain
So now we in a drop-top, soakin wet
In a silk suit, not to sweat
somersaults without 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 consequences are given for livin, the is
too to jump in jail
Too low to dig, I might touch hell HOT!
Get a life, now gon' sell
Then I catch you a spell, look at what came in the mail
A scale and some Arm and Hammer, so grow and some baby máma
Cadillac and a pack of pampers
Stack of with no answers
for cancer, cure for AIDS
Make a nigga wanna on tour for days
Get back home, are wrong
I really knew it was bad all along
Before you left adds up to a ball of
Thoughts at a miles per hour
Hello, ghetto, let your breathe
Believe always mo', OW!

Don't the thang out, unless you plan to bang
over Baghdad!
Yeah! Ha ha yeah!
Don't even bang unless you plan to hit
Bombs Baghdad!
Yeah!
Don't pull the thang out, you plan 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 still street
Big things every time we meet
Like a track team, crack fiend, to geek
Outkast bumpin' up and the street
Slam back, Cadillac, 'bout five nigga
Seventy-five emcee's to the beat
Cause we get krunk, stay drunk, at the
Should have bought an ounce, but you the dub
have held back, but you throwed the punch
'Spose to meet your girl but you packed a
No D U to-the G for you
Got a son on the way by the of Bamboo
Got a little baby four year, Jordan
turn my back on my kids for them
Should hit it (hit it) quit it (quit it) rag (rag) top (top)
Before you read up, get a
a business for yourself, boy, set some goals
Make a fair diamond out of dusty
Record four, but we on a roll
Hold up, up, stop, control
Janet, planets, Stankonia's on ya
Movin like Floyd straight to Florida
Lock all your windows then the corridors
Pullin off a belt a whipping's in order
Like a three-piece 'fore I cut your daughter
Yo quiero Taco Bell, then I hit the
pap rappers tryin' to get the five
I'm a microphone fiend tryin' to alive
When you come to ATL boi you not hide
the Dungeon Family gon' ride, hah!

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

Bombs over Baghdad!

B-I-G,

To the

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

Po-wer music, revival!