Luyện nghe bài hát Cop That Shit

[Intro: Elliot]
We are the VA
to the Neptunes and the Clipse
To ya we breaking off both of ya legs
The underrated Maganoo, with the unexpected
The run slave I, Mistameanor
Escaping all ya fraudulent players
Last but not least, the champion, Mr. Mosley

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

[Chorus: Elliot]
DJ's in the mix shows you go to the record store and
COP SHIT! (Oh Lord)
And to the bootleggers dubbin' the
We breaking off of ya legs, COP THAT SHIT! (Oh Lord)
Stop dubbin' CD's from a friend and say it again, nigga
COP SHIT! (Oh Lord)
'Cause it's the hottest shit, out on the
So when you hear this CD go and COP SHIT! (Oh Lord)

[Verse 2: Missy
you say you love me, it doesn't matter
It goes my head as just chit-chatter
You may think I'm or just very free
say I go tell it to, TIMOTHY!
People say I'm whack, but they don't me so
Let them pretend to be me, then they
I when one, pretend to fantasize
I despise, those who even try
Sweat between my thighs never stinking
Yo dream is over, sinking
I told all of you, like I all of them
say to me be, FIST TO YA CHIN!
In one ear and out the other
"Ayyio Missy you ugly!" ya mother
I don't pay attention, I concentrate
You ain't got the bait, that it to hook this, huh

[Verse 3:
I'm idol, the highest title, numero uno
I'm not a Puerto Rican but I do up to Fat Joe
And understand I got the of speech
And it's a blessing, being from them VA
I talk condensed in the form of a poem
If I wasn't writing rhymes I'd be in homes
I'm kinda young, so my gun's my
I'm not nigga 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 boy that'll get ya lifted
You got man stop frontin
off damn every record that you cutting
My name and I roll wit two stars
CD we split 48 bars
My Magoo and I'm a supadupa star
Every month I get a brand new car!