Luyện nghe bài hát Conversations From a Speakesy

Verse 1-
get introductions aside,
Pressure, Omni and Suffa busting the mic like,
Lately I've been nothing but hype,
Pen's than your sword? Then you'd be fucked in a fight,
From the of the exact conception I've had perfection,
And you aint close to Omni even though you may direction,
I've got a heart, but bad intentions,
Pressure need a map for reference I'm a man of legends,
last forever like bad impressions,
Like the night you cursed in adolescence,
The way I a sentence can panic veterans,
Some things are better left like anything that I have to mention,
My loud my downfall it's doubtful,
I'll bite off more than I can cos I already got a mouthful,
Act like I yall, well I'm a scoundrel,
With enemies but clich is a of me, I'm out yall.

Pull up a chair, and your feet on the table,
Let down you hair, lean in your seat if you're able,
We've got the Jazz, for speakeasy conversations,
the universal language of relaxation.

Verse 2 -
The of the giant, the eye of the lion,
The of victory is what makes me keep trying,
My will to survive is like I'm on an island,
I keep rhyming; keep climbing till find me,
My city's been me since the mid nineties,
Right the time when it was cool to be grimy,
My DJ to make the earth spin in reverse,
Put the needle to the dirt, spread the word you heard it first,
Now it's all twisted, somebody told the truth but they it,
I put it on my CD but skipped it,
But that's happens when you do something different,
Some people can just stay content the simple shit,
I live my life fast like my last,
I trip off of cash or dwell in the past,
I'm bigger that; I'm bigger than rap,
One of the sickest MCs on the map for that back.

Pull up a chair, and kick feet on the table,
Let down you hair, back in your seat if you're able,
got the Jazz, for your speakeasy conversations,
It's the language of relaxation.

3 - Suffa
I heard there ain't no party an open bar,
We lay out rhymes drinks for a broken heart,
Heartbreak like in an open scar,
So bizarre, roll thick smokers tar,
Tell me who can rock with no guitar,
And if I aint getting paid I'm leaving in the promoters car,
me who you know this far,
Gone, on the moments...
Gone, on till the break of governments back,
And on till my mates are all loving the tracks,
No thugs in his raps, no and macks,
And no guns, trying to get us up on the map,
Bust, Suffa on wax, it's on,
I'm trying to do for rhyme what cameras did for porn,
in a small town, die with a big mouth,
Hoods tore it all down, to the kids south.

Pull up a chair, and your feet on the table,
Let down you hair, lean back in your seat if able,
got the Jazz, for your speakeasy conversations,
It's the language of relaxation,
Pull up a chair, and your feet on the table,
Let down you hair, back in your seat if you're able,
got the Jazz, for your speakeasy conversations,
It's the universal of relaxation,
Pull up a chair, and kick feet on the table,
Let down you hair, lean back in your if you're able,
got the Jazz, for your speakeasy conversations,
It's the language of relaxation,
Pull up a chair, and kick your on the table,
Let down you hair, lean back in your if you're able,
got the Jazz, for your speakeasy conversations,
It's the universal of relaxation.