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 elephants with orangutans
You can't a train
Who want some? come un-pre-pared
be there, but when I leave there
Better be a name
man tellin' us it ain't gon' rain
So now we in a drop-top, soakin wet
In a silk suit, tryin' not to
Hits without the net
But this'll be the year that we won't
One-Nine-Nine-Nine, Ano Domini, goes, be whatchu wanna be
as you know consequences are given for livin, the fence is
too high to in jail
Too low to dig, I might just touch HOT!
Get a life, now gon' sell
Then I might you a spell, look at what came in the mail
A scale and some Arm and Hammer, so grow grid and some baby
Black Cadillac and a of pampers
of question with no answers
Cure for cancer, cure for
Make a nigga stay on tour for days
Get back home, things are
When I really knew it was bad all
Before you left up to a ball of power
Thoughts at a thousands 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 to hit something
over Baghdad!
Yeah!
Don't pull the thang out, unless you to bang
Bombs Baghdad!
Yeah! Ha ha yeah!
Don't even bang unless you to hit something
over Baghdad!
Yeah!

Uno, dos, tres, on
Did you ever think a pimp rock a
Like that there boi and will still street
Big things happen every we meet
a track team, crack fiend, dyin to geek
Outkast up and down the street
Slam back, Cadillac, 'bout five deep
Seventy-five emcee's freestylin' to the
Cause we get krunk, stay drunk, at the
Should have an ounce, but you caught the dub
Should held back, but you throwed the punch
'Spose to meet your but you packed a lunch
No D U to-the G for you
Got a son on the way by the of Bamboo
Got a little baby girl year, Jordan
Never turn my back on my kids for
Should hit it (hit it) quit it (quit it) rag (rag) top (top)
you read up, get a laptop
Make a business for yourself, boy, set goals
Make a diamond out of dusty coals
Record 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 block the corridors
Pullin off a 'cause a whipping's in order
Like a three-piece just 'fore I cut your
Yo quiero Bell, then I hit the border
pap rappers tryin' to get the five
I'm a microphone fiend tryin' to stay
When you to ATL boi you betta not hide
cause the Dungeon gon' ride, hah!

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