Luyện nghe bài hát Blah Blah Blah

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

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

we go
Lookin at me like know me
Only bout as far as they ass can throw me
Do it, somebody's to catch it, no breakage
Never that, we it basic like breakfast
So taste it, the vitamins are
So tighten up to Sluggo, even try to decipher the
But shut up
(Fuck that, sucka back)
I hold the game like Dame, I know your dame
(We call her back), Ali run that

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

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

x 2
Y'all need to watch and observe and then
If we open for it's still our show
I hear the bullshit wherever I go
Like Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah

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

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

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

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

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

If you keep bumping gums we can fucking take it there

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

x 2