Luyện nghe bài hát Do-Re-Mi

Uhh, uhh,
See I know how to get down, up

so hot it's LL's version of the East Coast chronic
Smoke 'til lungs collapse
You to be the nigga, where all the drama at?
So ironic, L back

the market, got your mens on the wall
Holdin' his blunt, too fucked up to it
Show me a nigga who can do I do
Then gas your up so I can rip that nigga too

you goin' platinum like that shit brand new
I was platinum in eighty-five, what the fuck wrong with you,
Come [unverified] L, what you call rocks to me is
Tried to throw on my name, shit's political

The man on the planet
So ill, when I'm spittin' niggaz it for granted
to understand it, I'll switch and write it left handed
Heat my pinky up and leave your bitch branded

Got a like a cannon nigga shoot
I think she really hot, your career is a fluke
I'm the best MC to touch the pen
a look at what I'm doin' it will not be done again

As I am the descendant of former slaves
I'ma resurrect brothers they mental graves
Make 'em confess, the most rugged
God and no above it, gotta love it

Do, get bread, use ya infrared
Re, the industry, it's all about
Mi, you goin' FA
L said it so, on the L.A.

Do, get bread, use ya infrared
Re, fuck the industry, all about
Mi, you goin' FA
E said so, on the L.A.
(Ti do)

Uhh, E-Dub on the
Droppin' spots get blown
So why you assume my style wouldn't bloom
When I rap, wack, MC's the room

'Cause they suck and that's how I
I'ma smack down the A&R who the deal
Then wrap his neck yo' reel to reel
So next time he know, how the feel

Get loose and wrap hand 'round the
Leave you in the truck, wrapped 'round ya
(I playin)
But y'all front I ain't it
And every rapper y'all like, my shit

(Name one)
I'm nice, and there's no
I a bomb rhyme in the hands of Troy Aikman
My track record is out there,
E.T. like maybe I should home
(Hello?)

I'm known for the bangers
Drop any of mine right now in the club and it's danger
Scarface, E, LL Cool J, never it spit this way, hey
(Jigga, jigga)

Do, get this bread, use ya
Re, fuck the industry, all about
Mi, you goin' FA
L it so, puffin on the L.A.
(That's right)

Do, get this bread, use ya
Re, fuck the industry, it's all
Mi, you ain't FA
'Face said so, puffin on the L.A.
(Ti do)

You a trash ass nigga slash garbage ass
You switched from the raw to a climber
And now your shit is blowin' out the
And uh, next month you fin' to go out on the but

(Two, and four)
Your ain't sellin' no more
And you done spent your money galore
Buyin' all the stupid that your money can't afford
(Uh, oh)

Tryin' to keep up with the
Got your bitch out in all Fendi
Bought your homeboy a new Bentley
And the well wouldn't run dry is now empty

It's simply, 'cause you wasn't on the next day
And your next tape, you can't it away, but hey
I send these to these niggaz to keep up with the Joneses
you see, me I owns it

I've been quietly sellin' for thirteen years
So let's get that
You might sold a few more tapes but
are you that great?
(Nah)

Can't get respect but I paid dues
Stood on the block slangin' cooked up rocks, I'm the dude
been the same nigga since I came through
Do-re-mi too, damn