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 jokin' so up, punk, slack up.
Watch your posse, before 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 whyle, and in fact, bite my style, and i'm-a catch a bullshit charge,
trial.
It's my thing to swing, your first mistake to bring a duck mc can't hang.
Don't forget, I'm crazy swift. my is erick sermon
[yeah, and I'm smith]
I act foolish, start 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, gots to tell) {scratching} (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' with the skills that pop taught.
To swingin', yeah, and not to quit.
Now I ride the benz, you the dick, with your punk friends,
Straight up pussy from city, my attitude's fucked up and real shitty.
the backstabbers, yeah my so-called friends,
Who in my pool. when it's time, flex the benz,
Around town, windows down at the town, cool j tape or k-solo "spellbound"
With fly dippin, brothers grippin' and sippin'
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 a sucka, yeah, you looked the other 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 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 causes confusion}
It's a fallout, when 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 like clint eastwood, of bullets, rhymes I pack
In my flow gun, so son, ya run,
'cause when it comes to hostage and prisoners, we none.
We move wax kilos ...{scratch}
And when my jam the streets, the sounds explode.
Watch the right hook, the death blow jack,
I where 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...]