Luyện nghe bài hát Do-Re-Mi

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

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

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

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

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

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

As sure I am the of former slaves
resurrect brothers from they mental graves
Make 'em confess, LL's the rugged
God and no above it, gotta love it

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

Do, get bread, use ya infrared
Re, fuck the industry, all about
Mi, you ain't FA
E said so, on the L.A.
(Ti do)

Uhh, on the microphone
Droppin' bombs get blown
So why would you assume my style wouldn't
When I rap, wack, vacate the room

'Cause they suck and how I feel
I'ma smack down the A&R who signed the
wrap 'round his neck yo' reel to reel
So time he know, how the real feel

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

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

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

Do, get this bread, use ya
Re, the industry, it's 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, all about
Mi, you goin' FA
'Cause 'Face so, puffin on the L.A.
(Ti do)

You a trash ass slash garbage ass rhymer
You switched from the raw to a chart
And now your is blowin' out the stores
And uh, month you fin' to go out on the tour but

(Two, and four)
Your records sellin' no more
And damn you done spent money galore
Buyin' all the stupid shit that your 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 that run dry is now empty

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

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

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