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 loc, I'm roastin, bakin' mcs,
The e I'm not jokin' so up, punk, slack up.
Watch your weak posse, before they get up.
One by one, two by two, by three, yo p...
[parrish: up, e.d.? ]
Pass the uzi, to blow up, any wack mc show up,
There one, blast 'im now.
[e, up.]
*don't make me wait-wait* because it might be too late, the punk escape,
And buck whyle, and in fact, bite my style, and i'm-a catch a charge,
trial.
It's my thing to swing, your mistake to bring a duck mc that can't hang.
Don't forget, I'm crazy swift. my name is sermon
[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, next you see me...
[...holler like ya me!]
I'm mad...

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

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

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

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