Luyện nghe bài hát Food For Funk

yo, yo, yo, yo, yo
Yo, yo, yo, yo, yo, yo, yo, yo, it yo
You say a one for the trouble two for the
on y'all let's rock that uh
(I can the funk, I can feel the funk)
(I can feel the funk, I can the funk)
it

I come to grips with
I come to grips that a lot of mic is dikes
I come to grips with the of Fred Hampton
Cold so I'm lampin' no need for spotlight

When I got light an intersection, you talk
But you to my town with protection
year, had the block hot
I scream, "Fuck the world", for having a baby girl sorta block

I write rhymes I come from the windy city
With my crew, I like simply, stand midi with reality
Casually, I walk through these war
claim say but then they take on whore names
If the way your sex drives, stay in your lane
If you're a man, I can't tell like if the rang now

Now, to the ladies in the when you come in the place
It ain't a bunch of niggaz all up in face
The is thumpin' and you're feelin' the bass
What you do girl
(Wanna shout)

To the brothas when you in a jam, it ain't a bunch of niggaz
It ain't high tech and got free liquor
You jackin' his name and stick to make you jones get
What you wanna do man? Yo, it
(Let go)

Some niggaz be on the mic, sounding dikes
me to get on and bust like Spike
(Uh)
Lee, I'm in the with no rotation
Through stations of bullshit, I see through a pager

In the age of Aquarius, various
Is carry us in intellect and what have you
Street astrologist's interpret stars and half moons
Then end up on or walls in bathrooms

Every moon, a rap tune move me
The rap sun, I rain more than Rudy, that unruly is played
It don't stop, it's to get it, get it made
I got my mind made up like Brown's face

I know how the tastes
I want a crib from the ground up, rooms at a round pace
Get down based on true story, Corey
close to the teachers

Colder as the Iceman, posted before it start
Linkin' with cats, who don't react to change in the
Fulfill prophesies in full of emptiness, now

Now, to the ladies in the house when you come in the
It ain't a bunch of all up in your face
The music is thumpin' and you're feelin' the
you wanna do girl
(Wanna shout)

To the when you come in a jam, it ain't a bunch of niggaz
It ain't tech and ain't got free liquor
You jackin' his and stick to make you jones get thicker
What you wanna do Yo, check it
(Let go)

I can the funk, I can feel the funk
I can the funk, I can feel the funk
I can feel the funk, I can feel the
I can the funk, I can feel the funk
Yo, it, check it

I came through the corridor, with the
Raw Chicago Mora, the horror
Read the lines and know the border
Some pop wines for juice, I in the water

Waitin' for you Big Willie niggaz to a show at the crib
We gonna get your glamor, long as we know where it is
Tell you ain't a player by your sweater doused with wack
The Crib got the gangsta playa shit patent like leather

I rap better than you, you or him
But I am a tree and every lyric is a timb
Spilled brews and greasy foods got my car
Some be so high, believe they fly like R. Kelly
But then they fall off, niggaz is gettin' sawed off
They fall soft, my mental lift is for me to haul off, I ass

Now, to the ladies in the house when you in the place
It ain't a bunch of niggaz all up in your
The music is and you're feelin' the bass
you wanna do girl
(Wanna shout)

To the brothas when you come in a jam, it ain't a of niggaz
It ain't high tech and got free liquor
You jackin' his name and to make you jones get thicker
What you do man? Yo, check it
(Let go)

I can feel the funk, I can the funk
I can feel the funk, I can feel the
I can feel the funk, I can feel the
I can feel the funk, I can the funk

I can the funk, I can feel the funk
I can the funk, I can feel the funk
I can the funk, I can feel the funk
I can the funk, I can feel the funk

Makes me wanna shout, shout
Makes me wanna shout, wanna
me wanna shout, wanna shout
Makes me wanna shout, wanna
Wanna