Luyện nghe bài hát General Principles

Castle you too
black takes on C4
Then white C4

I must put in time to get mine, hours to earn power
Like the ashy hand, he should wear only the rope
I can't be a broke nigga, better in
Sellin' CD's on the corner of and Dower

A small fry nigga in a baked world
Sizzling in some beef of grease like jheri curls
Shout out to DJ's who kept it
Shook a few in the thou', but some broke the seal

them, I stick to college radios, mix shows
Historic university to freestyle sick
give a lecture about your rap texture
M.C. B-Boy, DJ, director

The name was a bell that rang through the
Popular is the tag in the bathroom stall, it
This language is so
When we a rap nigga, the news is devastating

Whether to the prison or grave, you know rap shit
Is built the strength of those to hunger the crave
My got rhymes for days to be skilled, it pays
Most of them can't escape the rays

Name a that can stop the force that I strike with
Let alone try to hold the pen that I with
You can even chop off my fingers I with
Those I a mic with, thinking I might quit

They didn't know, that only makes me determined
Ich lebe fur hip hop, you can ask the
Some say I never got for recognition
So I drop another, they and still listen

Plus I, ran a well known musician
He said, sample shit got too many cooks in the kitchen
Now he's back to flipping love borns and cypher
To his kids, much even hyper wiz

A bad amigo, stroke your ego
You see the flash in the dash, blast with Buick-Regal
The same you was throwing your key to
Brought the 7 in the building to see you

You know god damn streets is so gritty
With sour milk from titties, that'll the city
The hood backs, strong attack is a blitz
But we don't lie down for shit, not even direct

From graffiti in New York on the walls and
DJ's in California, to the of Maine
B-Boys on the floor who be they thang
To MC's, ropes, who had titles to claim

My teams about shoot outs, the fans shout with loud
The clock ran out, the ref throw the sign, over time
The rambling, teams scheme
The championship ring fending, must be dreaming

rap players and slayers got a lot of endorsements
Make hire law enforcements
Plus, I turned down tracks, can't remember the
Producer the beats is wack, sound similar

It gotta be exciting, striking,
Bring the best out, to dawn Harlem
Writing, light stroke from my pen might
The tape lent, got a air, then half the spins

M.C.'s be with fear fascination
The nature in the scale of events, shook the
I up the track, armed only with the pen
Terrorize it with the force of wind

From graffiti in New York, on the and trains
in California, to the shores of Maine
B-Boys on the floor, who be doing they
To MC's, ropes, who had titles to claim

is hip hop
(Then takes C4, and C5, and C6)
(C5, Queen E5, E5, 95, Bishop C4)
(Masters 3, and castle)