Luyện nghe bài hát Blah Blah Blah

Get together now because it's hit time
Your as the hit makers
Breaker breakers, makers
They'll make your back crack, liver quiver
For all you cats, we're gonna put more dips in your
More cut in your strut, more glide in your
If you don't dig you gotta hole in your soul
If you don't dig this mess, you came to the wrong
singing might be loud and clear

[Brother
Ayo, the music made 'em back
Fuck that, how y'all gonna come tracks, fat, without lettin Ali touch that?
Gun whack, his lips
You're not serious, I got few and no superiors (so here he is)
A seasoned veteran, an ego
I it up another notch to keep the people guessin
Y'all ain't with the ox so put your feeble session
Double for the evening, so you heed the lessons

we go
Lookin at me like know me
bout as far as they drunk ass can throw me
Do it, bound to catch it, no breakage
Never that, we keep it basic like
So taste it, the are subtle
So tighten up to Sluggo, even try to decipher the
But up though
(Fuck that, sucka back)
I hold the like Notre Dame, I know your dame
(We call her hunch back), Ali run

[Brother
From lips to gods ears
We mind yall bastards and cross hairs
Applying our thug tactics y'all scared
Don't stop till drunk ass hits the back stairs (ohh yeah)

Fuck that, jump back, yo, what's
Drippin off her nuts, wait, why she got a nut
You fuckin rappers are
From the retail to the e-mail, the felt cause you need help

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Y'all need to watch and and then follow
If we open for it's still our show
I the same bullshit wherever I go
Like Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah

Ali] (Slug)
(Rappers to)
ah yeah they get their shits
I throw a roll of quarters and cyphers and I get learned
(Yo I don't care you represent son, where's your chicks?)
take her out for breakfast if you want to let your lips run

Listen, I know mission, some type of magician that likes to go fishin
On the mic air tight precision, the leaders in keeping tradition
when you ain't even the rhythm that the DJ is spinnin
Calm down little camper, got the answers
You should fuck exotic
You should grow a of tits and some antlers
It doesn't matter, turn it up, what the fuck you that amp's for?

Ali]
I write poems, write rhymes, my name in the snow
And I use all of that to bend the frame of your ho
And I but instead I'll just pay the waiter and go
But if I didn't have a wife, yo, your be albinos
Your is like a stick in the grass
Mean mugs and tree hugs, go on about it
I wear my toilet paper so that y'all can my ass
with tongue out and write a love song about it

Write that shit inside of your book of funny little scribbles
The love comes in vomit, the money in dribbles
The Minnesota missiles, taught
communication, mutilation, holding pictures of your sister

[Brother
Ha ha, You to drunk to walk down the
And now you're standing here choking on my hairs
Telling me your name is if you think the cares

If you bumping your gums we can fucking take it there

(Brother Ali)
Yo Make a room full of rocks stop and do the walk
(Rest those shots from a cop, and ask him your pops)
Who's you daddy, that, Jump back and act happy
(Sing my fucking chorus I punch you in the face)

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