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 to grips with mics
I come to grips that a lot of mic users is
I come to with the likes of Fred 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 cock block

I rhymes like I come from the windy city
With my crew, I click like simply, stand midi reality
Casually, I walk through these war
Some claim say but then take on whore names
If that's the way your sex drives, in your lane
If a man, I can't tell like if the door rang 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 the bass
What you do girl
(Wanna shout)

To the when you come in a jam, it ain't 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)

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

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

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

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

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

Now, to the in the house 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
you wanna do girl
(Wanna shout)

To the when you come 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
you wanna do man? Yo, check it
(Let go)

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

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

for you Big Willie 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 shit patent like black

I rap better than you, you or him
But I am like a and every lyric 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 off, I kick ass

Now, to the ladies in the when you come in the place
It ain't a bunch of all up in your face
The is thumpin' 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 bunch of
It ain't high tech and ain't got free
You jackin' his and stick to make you jones get thicker
What you wanna do 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 feel the

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
I can feel the funk, I can feel the

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