Luyện nghe bài hát Great Expectations

My Punchline want his money
Yo, this is a capitalist
Yo! Hello world, how doin?
Don't be shy, can wave back, man I know y'all can't see me
Oh you got it?

Verse 1: Kweli
Talib Kweli in Japan is mush-mush
Yo, I'm able to keep it fresh like veggie and couscous
Got my in a catch deuce-deuce
Livin proof, you want the truth? Nah, you can't the truth
I it like any Angelo, be it Michael- or D'
Paint the with my sounds, smoke trees with melodies
I enter the palace with no malice
If L's make you a chalice is recommended
Particularly filled with sticky that I got Manny
I'm breakin mics like Amy Fisher a family
It can be, all so if you let it
If you don't want to, it, forget it, yo, don't sweat it
You feel when you let the power of the rhythm hit you
White widow got my eyes
But sharp as leaves of paper cuttin' skin
Whenever I write my pen and make a point
be like, "Yeah, that's the joint"
Yo Matt, got the on they DAT
That make it easy to complete 'cause I shit with or without a beat
See you on the hook like a fish we it out, no doubt,
The shit fixed like at Christmas
So bounce, come on, bounce, on
I you in my sentence and the shit's a run-on
Tokyo, you at?
Brooklyn, you at?

Kweli next to be up, so I suggest you
Or up like you hear a shot
Now I can the tracks of all the teardrops of every single MC in earshot
I fear not or none, number one, Ichiban, none, one, Ichiban

VERSE 2: Kweli
I get my camouflage from
My rhymes are the price of Sony
Your light last for one minute like Rice-A-Roni
Son, I'm nice, you're phoney It seems all you want in to know me
I'm colder than when the ground's with ice and it's snowy
One and only Kweli from Eternal Reflect
Yo, I to Tokyo where everything is Hi-Tek
So I feel at home, rightin' poems, fightin' clones
Who bite my own style they ain't got one, I got drive while you ride shotgun
stop, son I watch "Get on the Bus" a lot
And all shabuya has got to stop I'm just playin'
culture is like amazin', animation is like hair-raisin
Kick selection got no limit eatin' seaweed, one day I get with it
But I see weed I'm smokin', heh, I'm just jokin', really not though
My homie Common me, "Arigato"
My art got no Boundaries like Pablo
Who? You don't know, you knew Big up to Ru
See you in the show on the Avenue Of the Americas etcetera,
You get the point, you want hot shit, I got a
Classics, it's the of Brooklyn, New York City, so we're never comin' shitty
I get more love in than "Hello Kitty"
Such a pity, these think they hangin' with me
Catch me on MTV with Mos Diddy