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
Come on y'all 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 a lot of mic users is dikes
I come to grips with the likes of Hampton
Cold so I'm lampin' with no for spotlight

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

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

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

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

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

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

Every black moon, a rap move me
The rap sun, I rain more than Rudy, that unruly shit is
It stop, it's time to get it, get it made
I got my mind made up like Brown's face

I how the underground tastes
I want a crib from the ground up, spin at a round pace
Get down on true story, through Corey
Came to the teachers

as the Iceman, posted before it start wrinklin'
Linkin' with cats, who don't to change in the years
prophesies in rooms full of emptiness, now

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

To the brothas when you in a jam, it ain't a bunch of niggaz
It ain't high and ain't 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 feel the
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 the funk
Yo, check it, it

I came the corridor, with the aura
Raw Chicago Mora, scope the
Read between the lines and the border
pop wines for juice, I wait in the water

Waitin' for you Big Willie niggaz to have a at the crib
We get with 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 playa shit patent like black leather

I rap better than you, you or him
But I am like a tree and every is a timb
Spilled brews and greasy foods got my car
Some be so high, they believe they fly like R.
But then fall off, dusted niggaz is gettin' sawed off
They fall soft, my mental lift is for me to haul off, I 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 and you're feelin' the bass
you wanna do girl
(Wanna shout)

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

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

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