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

1, 2, 1, 2, 3 yeah!
In-slum-national,
Thunder pounds when I the ground (Woo!)
Like a million with silverback orangutans
You stop a train
Who some? Don't come un-pre-pared
I'll be there, but when I leave
Better be a name
Weather man 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 year we won't forget
One-Nine-Nine-Nine, Ano Domini, goes, be whatchu wanna be
Long as you know consequences are for livin, the fence is
too to jump in jail
Too low to dig, I just 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 grid and some baby máma
Black Cadillac and a pack of
Stack of with no answers
for cancer, cure for AIDS
Make a nigga wanna stay on tour for
Get back home, things are
When I really it was bad all along
Before you left adds up to a ball of
Thoughts at a thousands miles per
Hello, ghetto, let your brain
Believe there's mo', OW!

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

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

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