Luyện nghe bài hát Brooklyn Style... Laid Out

Come on y'all and feel the
Get on and make your move
Welcome to the
Brooklyn style, laid out like

Come on and feel the groove
Get on down and your move
to the funkiest
Brooklyn style, laid out like

I the flavor good, to represent the neighborhood
Where I come from, and the place of Brooklyn
Where the grimies are and bred
And bullets are like eyeballs, two to the

Well is it Brownsville? Time to for the map
where the smoke blunts and like to wear mad gold caps
The party addict about to
the 1-1-2, the double-3 ill zip code

Parlayin' on the corner, drinkin' 40's Cee-Lo
It's a thing, aight? You know our steelo
And for those who don't know how it go
Play like a substitute teacher and act you know

So yo, who wanna set it? You better kick your G
You and your whole entourage couldn't me
I for the fo' main
And if you're not a booty bandit, then niggaz can't

Come on y'all and feel the
Get on down and make your
Welcome to the
Brooklyn style, laid out this

Now, let's get straight down to the
I represent for this Brooklyn
Baby pah, we're takin' it to
Makin' a few dollars don't mean you forget
Where you from and try to be someone
That you're not and front with what you got

gonna be looked at as a black man still so keep it real
What of mission can I say you on?
Because you done changed to some Grey Poupon, heh
I'm really to see you blew up

But always my man you grew up
In the PJ's all your life, in a broken
alright now
Up in the all your life, keepin' it strong, what

I be the Louis Ave livin', live long lastin'
black brother, word to the mother
Skilled at trades at hand those who made
The man support and always stayed a fan

My style is perfected
In ways you imagine rap bein' accepted
Funk'll like a doper jam, pops
I'm takin mine like taxes with Sam
So check out the Asiatic of flow
Like water in the Nile, but it's Brooklyn

on y'all and feel the groove
Get on down and your move
Welcome to the
Brooklyn style, laid out like

Yo, is Big Scoob, no practice
I'm flippin' on niggaz like kids on that mattress
You know my style, Pah from the PJ's
My lyrics so dope, they too fat for DJ's

So hear me out, no doubt, no need for
My boys in the back, clockin' your jewels, and they
Why did step to me, I hit 'em, bow, bu-dow
Knocked out his fronts 'cause the kid was mad

No need for chief I'm rollin' mad deep
So pick up your teeth, I got him like a leaf
Not to scare you, I just wanna aware you
I bet you even look at my face
(What, what, what)
I you

Yo nigga please, yo I'm nice these
While guardin' your grill
be beatin' up your kidneys
Me and my with the fat tec 9's
with my joint cocked back, in case a punk tried to take

I'm from there's no need for hesitation
We and squeeze, now where's the doctor for this patient?
He's drippin' blood and now down to his last breath
But he won't make it, he knows that my joint is def

The ill, type of artist
who rocks the har-dest,
who you know and where you're from I pull your
(How?)
style

Come on y'all and the groove
Get on and make your move
to the funkiest
Brooklyn style, laid out this