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 feel the funk, I can the funk)
(I can the funk, I can feel the funk)
it

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

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

I write like I come from the windy city
my crew, I click like simply, stand midi with reality
Casually, I walk through war games
Some claim say but then they on whore names
If that's the way your sex drives, in your lane
If you're a man, I tell like if the door rang now

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

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

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

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

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

I know how the underground
I want a from the ground up, rooms spin at a round pace
Get down based on story, through Corey
close to the teachers

Colder as the Iceman, posted before it wrinklin'
Linkin' with cats, who react to change in the years
prophesies in rooms full of emptiness, now

Now, to the ladies in the house you come in the place
It a bunch of niggaz all up in your face
The music is and you're feelin' the bass
What you wanna do
(Wanna shout)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I can the funk, I can feel 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 feel the

I can the funk, I can feel the funk
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

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