Luyện nghe bài hát Cop That Sh**

[Intro: Elliott]
We are the VA
Love to the Neptunes and the
To ya bootleggers we breaking off both of ya
The Maganoo, comin' with the unexpected
The run away slave I,
Escaping from all ya fraudulent
Last but not least, the champion, Mr. Mosley

1: Timbaland]
It's been a long time, I shouldn't have you
Without some little and nephews
To cover all the beats, and the I been through
Time's up, sorry I you
of this, I keep repeating them hits
Like that Aaliyah, Timberlake, or Missy shit (Shit)
As you sit by the radio, hands on the tone
As you it, pump up the volume
Jump when you hear speakers left it off (Off)
Mr. VA to set it off
Well I don't know what you heard, and I know what ya know
Well my folks don' me, (YOU GOT IT! Oh)
So, "Up Jumps the Boogie", let the work (Uh huh)
And put me on you red alert
it's the big bad Timmy, Maganoo, and Missy
Like THREE THE HARD WAY!, straight out of Virginia

[Chorus: Elliott]
DJ's in the mix shows you better go to the store and
COP SHIT! (Oh Lord)
And to the bootleggers giving em
We breaking off of ya legs, COP THAT SHIT! (Oh Lord)
Stop burnin' for ya friend and I'ma say it again, nucca
COP SHIT! (Oh Lord)
'Cause this the hot shit, out on the
So you hear this CD go and COP THAT SHIT! (Oh Lord)

[Verse 2: Elliott]
When you say you me, it doesn't matter
It into my head as just chit-chatter
You may I'm egotistical or just very free
say I go tell it to, TIMOTHY!
People say I'm whack, but they tell me so
Let them pretend to be me, they know
I hate one, pretend to fantasize
Fact I despise, who even try
Sweat between my thighs {*sniff*} never
Yo is over, career sinking
I told all of you, like I all of them
Whatcha say to me be, TO YA CHIN!
In one ear and out the other
"Ayyio Missy you ugly!" ya mother
I don't pay attention, I don't
You ain't got the bait, it takes to hook this, huh

[Verse 3:
I'm idol, the highest title, numero uno
I'm not a Rican but I do look up to Vagil
And understand I got the gift of
And it's a blessing, being from VA streets
I talk sense in the form of a poem
If I wasn't writing rhymes I'd be in homes
I'm young, so my gun's my security
I'm not nucca do what you gon do to me
I get when your record is played
To put it short, heh I got it
I'm talented, yes I'm
My uppercut boy get ya lifted
You got man stop frontin
Living off damn every record you cutting
My name and I roll wit two stars
Every CD we 48 bars
My name Magoo and I'm a supadupa
Every month I get a brand new car!