Luyện nghe bài hát Cuts to The Gut

[intro: buddha monk, (shorty stain)]
Yea, aight, yo
We just shut all these mothafuckas up
(for all y'all mothafuckas)
Yea, shit

[shorty shit of brooklyn zu]
It wasn't my fault you came outside ya strap on
Tryin to get yo mack on and niggaz took of possession
Should've rolled deep, get crooked by I creap
And ya when ya least expect, the hard head
For those livin trife, it like a knife
Who choose to play dice, who to play dice
It's that, this one is a money
My album took that taker, I see ya nigga money and he
I caught that nigga and I had to react
And blast quick, tried to front, he gonna laugh at
This type of style is hardcore, tried to front
When he what? move on him, what?
But i'ma hit him with my utmost
If ya can't bring death, then ya represent

[chorus: monk]
Deadly is the slang the brooklyn zu
When we comin thru ya town, what ya niggaz do?

[dutch masta
Never carried steal, before ya got deal
But now ya wouldn't got it, so now ya puffin chronic
Two heads of drakness comin forth, there is
Blind or twice, then those heads become pennys
My is more deadly than a shot from yo gun
You see I swung once, but really I fourth
be by yo vision, now yo shit's on the floor
Shit like that, ya can't face with
Sent niggaz back I am the dutch masta
Kill or wack-ass styles in the mud
Minds deep in heart, is gold wit yo gut
understood, oh he be someone you can't see
And that someone is me, too for you to believe
the day of yo birth till ya ride in the hurse
There's that happens that could've been worse
Let me free, bomb will be the final sequel
all men are cremated equal

[buddha
Never war, back on four tracks
Niggaz test the bees, ya must be wack
Never more, actual
Comin thru the killa bees attack
My sword has the power to in any hour
Slang cuts ya brains, now ya only hang
of sense, so I inflict the killa hits
Dirty assist with this mix, breaks mad shit
There's is no that can test the 1-12 crew
Don't let me go suu!, bees comin thru
the war with the great and it kills with the slicin
I come mad sins, I'm the happy man again
Come into my realm and I like the lizard palm
prevail with the tails, now ya mind dwells
Into a dimension, no facts, only
sent to this train has three sixes on their skin

[dutch killa]
Bloaw! little hare was good, was
The wild-ass hippy who always packed the
the good life, was praised around, the hood life
He ran with his man the second floor
happy, puffin on the staircase wall
Greedy had a younger brotha, both lived with motha
Motha had no fatha, they both each otha
And prayed for the otha, saw the seat
knew the feat, at nite he would creap
Was still packin heat, the planned to a digga
caught the hiccups, one, two more, three
But got away, the eighty-fiver man
Yea, he still strayed away, the clean eddie it
No icepick or fist, glock or
He this, caught in the shootout
His man wanted his boot out, he was in a trance
He has his mask, laid out past dawn, now momma's grave

[outro: masta killa, (odb)]
at 'cha from every type of angle
Ya know killa represent the bronx
Queens, manhatten, all over world
The east coast, straight and
Straight out of
And all everywhere
warriors
(I to hear the bees!)