Luyện nghe bài hát Bust the Facts

Here's a little that must be told
Ah yes, yes y'all and you stop
Here's a story that must be told
You're to the sounds, of the best MC, in the world
Keith, go off and go off

I got a flier in my hand, Bambaataa with Crush
The place is packed, with Wa and Rayon
Lovely ladies smellin' sweet, a lot of Avon
Jazzy Jay by my side, Charlie Chase me

Flash and Theodore, super that blind me
Catch a is the rhythm, spinnin' back and forth
From the East and the Valley, back up North
Towards the South Bronx, Euceda and Webster

The speakers are pumpin', power is thumpin'
With the mega amp, keepin' pep up, jumpin'
From side to side, the double will peak
They had some MC's, a lot of them, they was weak

They no style with no metaphor, no to speak
Melle Mel had the best rhymes, rankin' Caz
Kool Moe to get down but I made him sit down
With that metaphor quickness, you and you bit this

and go turn, see the flame and go burn
To ashes to ashes, to dust
Seven years later toy you still crusty
Your old rhymes are rust, dirty and dusty

And under your arms you're power and musty
Get out of my way, and let the path roll
Let me run up the charts, freak a turn gold
While you're listenin', I throw a in your ear
the facts

Yes, yes

Let's rock, get
Yes, yes

Let's rock, get

Yes, yes

Let's rock, get

Now swing your around, dosey-dosey
Like musical chairs and around the Rosie
The party you pace see, Kool Herc J.C.
The battle, The Disco Twins

Funky with break beats, the DJ spins
For the L Brothers, right in the scene
Mean Gene was maxin', Rockin' Rob went to
While the tables would turn, the old used to jerk

With the drive, Technics and B-1's
the orange light shinin', the red on D-1's
Direct and Nova, I'm chillin' with G.L.O.B.E.
Mr. Biggs and Pow-Wow, and Superman

Pullin' out Olde E, that funky funky 40 ounce
Ikey C from Cosmic, the bass bounce
Red in the booth, the T-Connection to mix
Silly you know my style has Trix

To go on, to the next line, to the of dawn
I move up step, to the early early morn
With a hip-hop and some rhyme popcorn
Never smokin' or sniffin' or ever jokin' or

Because time to plex more, and rhyme fantastic
Donald Rock and Whip, neither rapper was plastic
in the days, you had to be so sarcastic
To out a rhyme and make it double elastic

You learn new jack, step and be wack
You what time it is boy and every mic I smoke
Bust the

Yes, yes

Let's rock, get
Yes, yes

Let's rock, get

Yes, yes

Let's rock, get
Yes, yes

Let's rock, get

Later on at the Club, while Tom excel
I got a for your brain that surely rings a bell
Patti Duke had the hands, swift with Billy Boy
Playin' James Brown records, you stupid you boy

Bongo Rockin', where the rhythm go
You and pass, Busy Bee give and go
To the AJ Scratch, a beat that matched
With a break, that was hard to catch

DST was mixin', slicin' his elbows
Freakin' the wheels, loopin' rhymes, we go
To the faster, speed up and go faster
Turn my JVC to power and blast the

Mario tape, yes The King
the b-side The Funky Drums, no new jack swing
Happy rappers with dots, were bound to get stuck
You had the Zulus the Nine crew, you're your luck

The Casanovas was maxin' all scheamin' to
You had The Spades, plus The Savage Skulls
Gang was over, neither crew is exist
They got a job and a wife, a pretty to kiss

So on the kept rollin', straight up into disco
Eddie was sweet G and back up to Cisko
And freakier Islam, with the Great Love
Spinnin' high-top beats, can you it, you dig
Keith out smokin', my lyrics are hot
Bust the

Let's rock, get
Yes, yes

Let's rock, get

Yes, yes

Let's rock, get
Yes, yes

Let's rock, get