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

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

I write rhymes like I from the windy city
With my crew, I like simply, stand midi with reality
Casually, I through these war games
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 tell like if the door now

Now, to the ladies in the house when you come in the
It ain't a bunch of niggaz all up in 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 ain't got free
You jackin' his name and stick to make you 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 bust Spike
(Uh)
Lee, I'm in the majors no rotation
stations of bullshit, I see through like a pager

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

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

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

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

Now, to the in the house when you come in the place
It a bunch of niggaz all up in your face
The music is thumpin' and 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 ain't got liquor
You his name and stick 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 the funk
I can feel the funk, I can the funk
Yo, check it, it

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

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

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

Now, to the ladies in the house you come in the place
It ain't a of niggaz all up in your face
The music is thumpin' and you're 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 free
You jackin' his name and stick to make you jones get
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 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 the funk
I can feel the funk, I can feel the
I can the funk, I can feel the funk

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