Luyện nghe bài hát Business as Usual

(let's it to the stage, sucka)

sermon:
It's the e, and I'm smokin'. wild like tone loc, I'm roastin, mcs,
The e I'm not jokin' so up, punk, slack up.
Watch your weak posse, they get smacked up.
One by one, two by two, by three, yo p...
[parrish: up, e.d.? ]
Pass the uzi, to blow up, any wack mc that up,
There one, blast 'im now.
[e, up.]
*don't make me wait-wait* because it be too late, the punk might escape,
And buck whyle, and in fact, bite my style, and catch a bullshit charge,
trial.
It's my thing to swing, first mistake to bring a duck mc that can't hang.
Don't forget, I'm crazy swift. my name is erick
[yeah, and I'm parrish
I could act foolish, blastin'. ha ha ha ha, now who's laughin'?
I'm-a let ya slide, but ya owe me, time you see me...
[...holler ya know me!]
I'm mad...

(here's a little story, I've gots to tell) (I'm mad!) 4x

My life story I straight from the heart.
When suckers to crash my shit straight from start.
A young black kid destined for success, no old gold, no cocaine, or cess.
Straight up hard work. no and no shorts.
Brainstormin' the skills that pop duke taught.
To swingin', yeah, and not to quit.
Now I the benz, you ride the dick, with your punk friends,
Straight up pussy from city, my attitude's fucked up and real shitty.
From the backstabbers, my so-called friends,
Who swim in my pool. when time, flex the benz,
Around town, windows down at the south town, j tape or k-solo "spellbound"
With fly dippin, brothers grippin' and sippin'
Old gold, red bull, on my dick and
I'm just with my ek shades, truck-jewels, obviously the man's paid.
But of course not, can't get his props
Like for instance, when I cruise up the
In my 560 lampin' on my metro phone, chrome kit all off your dome.
But like a sucka, yeah, you looked the way
That's how I knew you're on my kid, but it's okay.
It's normal, relax, whole head's busted.
Caught in the rap skit, ya be trusted.
'cause my sounds pound from here to okinowi...{kiss} and I'm ouuuutie!

Stay to this last episode, when I rock the house and the mic explodes.
This is not the style that I be usin', in fact black,
It causes confusion}
It's a fallout, sucker mcs and crowds call out my name,
Oh what a I got {fame!}

I'm not a new jack, my are not wack, and in fact,
I'm clint eastwood, 'stead of bullets, rhymes I pack
In my gun, so son, ya better run,
when it comes to hostage and prisoners, we take none.
We wax like kilos ...{scratch}
And when my jam hits the streets, the explode.
Watch the right hook, duck the death jack,
I wonder the e and the p's at...
[can do it again? ] you bet your ass, black.
[see you in '91] until things get the bozack... mad...]