Luyện nghe bài hát Bombs Over Baghdad

Dre)
1, 2... 1, 2, 3; yeah!
Inter-national,
Thunder pounds I stomp the ground (Woo!)
Like a million elephants with silverback
You can't stop a
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 sittin' in a drop-top wet
In a silk suit tryin' not to
Hits without the net
But this'll be the year we won't forget
One-nine-nine-nine, and anything goes, be whatchu wanna be
Long as you know consequences, to give and for livin'
Too hot, I'm jumpin'
Too low to dig, I might touch hell
Hot! Get a life, now they gon'
Then I catch you a spell, look at what came in the mail
A scale and some Arm and Hammer, so grow grid and baby m'ama
Cadillac and a pack of pampers, stack of questions with no answers
Cure for cancer, for AIDS
Make a wanna stay onto it for days
Get home, things are wrong
We're not really to spend all alone
Before he left, adds up to a ball of
Thousands of miles per hour
Hello, ghetto, let your breathe,
Believe always more
Owwww!

2X
(Dre) Don't pull the thang out, unless you plan to
(Choir) Over Baghdad! Yeah!
(Dre) Yeah! Ha ha yeah!
Don't even unless you plan to hit something
(Choir) Over Baghdad! Yeah!

(Big Boi)
Uno, dos, tres, on
Did you ever think a pimp a microphone
Like that there boy and will still stay
Big things happen we meet
Like a track team, crack feind, dyin' to
bumpin' up and down the street
Slam back, Cadillac, 'bout five nigga
Seventy-five freestylin' to the beat
Cause we get krunk, stay drunk, at the
have bought an ounce, but you caught the dub
Should have held back, but you a punch
'Spose to your girl 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 four year, Jordan
Never turn my on my kids for them
Should hit, quit it, rag top
Before you read up, get a
Make a business for yourself, boy, set goals
Make a dime out of dusty coal
Record number four, but we on a
Hold up, up, stop, control
Like Janet, planets, Stankonia is
A movin' like comin' straight to Florida
Lock all your then block the quarters
Pullin' off on bell 'cause a whippins in
a three piece fist, 'fore I cut your daughter
Yo quiero Taco Bell, then i hit the
pap rappers tryin' to get the five
I'm a fiend tryin' to stay alive
When you come to A-town well you better not
the Dungeon Family gonna ride
Ha!

2X
(Dre) Don't pull the thang out, you plan to band
(Choir) Over Baghdad! Yeah!
(Dre) Yeah! Ha ha yeah!
Don't even unless you plan to hit something
(Choir) Over Baghdad! Yeah!

(Choir)
Bombs Baghdad! Yeah!
Bombs Baghdad! Yeah!
Over Baghdad! Yeah!
Bombs Baghdad! Yeah!

(Dre)
B-I-G,

To the

(Dre and Big Boi) 16X
Bob head. Rag top.

(1, 2...1, 2, 3, 4) (Gimme some)

(Choir) 23X
Bible music. revival