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

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

I write like I come from the windy city
my crew, I click like simply, stand midi with reality
Casually, I walk these 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 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
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 ain't got free
You jackin' his name and stick to you jones get thicker
What you do man? Yo, check it
(Let go)

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

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

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

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

Colder as the Iceman, posted before it wrinklin'
Linkin' with cats, who don't to change in the years
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 niggaz all up in your
The music is thumpin' and you're the bass
What you do girl
(Wanna shout)

To the brothas you come 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 stick to make you 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 feel the
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, the horror
Read the lines and know the border
Some pop for juice, I wait in the water

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

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

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

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

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

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 the funk, I can feel the funk

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