Luyện nghe bài hát Business as Usual

(let's it to the stage, sucka)

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

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

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

Stay tuned to this last episode, I rock the house and the mic explodes.
This is not the buckwild style I be usin', in fact black,
It causes confusion}
It's a fallout, when sucker mcs and 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 like clint eastwood, of bullets, rhymes I pack
In my gun, so son, ya better run,
'cause when it comes to hostage and prisoners, we none.
We move wax kilos ...{scratch}
And when my jam hits the streets, the explode.
Watch the right hook, the death blow jack,
I where the e and the p's at...
[can they do it ] you bet your ass, black.
[see you in '91] things get the bozack... [i'm mad...]