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 back up, punk, up.
Watch your weak posse, before they get up.
One by one, two by two, by three, yo p...
what's up, e.d.? ]
Pass the uzi, to blow up, any wack mc show up,
There goes one, 'im now.
[e, up.]
*don't me wait-wait* because it might 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, your first to bring a duck mc that can't hang.
Don't forget, I'm crazy swift. my is erick sermon
[yeah, and I'm smith]
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 little story, I've gots to tell) (I'm mad!) 4x

My life story I tell from the heart.
When suckers tried to crash my shit straight start.
A black kid destined for success, no old gold, no cocaine, or buddha cess.
Straight up work. no sleep 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 punk city, my fucked up and real shitty.
From the backstabbers, yeah my friends,
Who swim in my pool. it's time, flex the benz,
Around town, down at the south town, cool j tape or k-solo "spellbound"
fly girlies dippin, brothers grippin' and sippin'
Old gold, red bull, hands on my and
I'm lampin' with my ek shades, truck-jewels, obviously the man's paid.
But of course not, brother can't get his
Like for instance, when I up the block
In my 560 on my metro phone, chrome kit beamin' all off your dome.
But a sucka, yeah, you looked the other 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 from here to okinowi...{kiss} peace and I'm ouuuutie!

Stay tuned to this last episode, when I the house and the mic explodes.
This is not the style that I be usin', in fact 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 clint eastwood, 'stead of bullets, rhymes I pack
In my gun, so son, ya better run,
'cause when it comes to and prisoners, we take none.
We move wax kilos ...{scratch}
And when my jam the streets, the sounds explode.
Watch the right hook, duck the death jack,
I where the e and the p's at...
they do it again? ] you bet your ass, black.
[see you in until things get the bozack... [i'm mad...]