Luyện nghe bài hát Great Expectations

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

Verse 1: Talib
Talib Kweli in Japan is mush-mush
Yo, I'm able to keep it fresh like veggie and couscous
Got my comp in a deuce-deuce
Livin proof, you the truth? Nah, you can't handle the truth
I it like any Angelo, be it Michael- or D'
Paint the with my sounds, smoke trees with melodies
I enter the with no malice intended
If L's make you cough a is recommended
filled with sticky that I got from Manny
I'm mics like Amy Fisher breakin' a family
It can be, all so if you let it
If you don't want to, fuck it, it, yo, don't sweat it
You feel when you let the power of the rhythm hit you
widow got my eyes Chinese
But as leaves of paper cuttin' your 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 a fish we knock it out, no doubt,
The shit fixed like at Christmas
So bounce, on, bounce, come on
I lock you in my sentence and the 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 trace the tracks of all the teardrops of every MC in earshot
I fear not or none, number one, Ichiban, none, number one,

VERSE 2: Kweli
I get my camouflage Weiss/Mahoney
My rhymes are the price of Sony
Your light like last for one minute like
Son, I'm nice, you're phoney It seems all you want in life's to me
I'm colder than the ground's covered with ice and it's snowy
One and only Talib Kweli from Reflect
Yo, I come to Tokyo everything is Hi-Tek
So I right at home, rightin' poems, fightin' clones
Who bite my own style cause ain't got one, I got drive while you ride shotgun
Please stop, son I "Get on the Bus" a lot
And all this shabuya has got to stop I'm playin'
culture is like amazin', animation is like hair-raisin
Kick selection got no eatin' seaweed, maybe one day I get with it
But when I see I'm smokin', heh, I'm just jokin', really not though
My Common told me, "Arigato"
My art got no like Pablo Picasso
You don't know, you never 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 best of Brooklyn, New York City, so we're never shitty
I get love in Japan than "Hello Kitty"
Such a pity, these MC's think hangin' with me
Catch me on MTV with Mos Diddy