Luyện nghe bài hát Hip-Hop Is Dead

If hip hop should die before I
put an extended clip inside of my AK
Roll to station, murder the DJ
Roll to station, murder the DJ

If hip hop should die before I
I'll put an extended clip of my AK
Roll to every station, the DJ
Roll to every station, the DJ

Hip hop just died this
And she's dead, she's

Yeah, niggaz smoke, laugh, party, and die in the corner
Get cash, live fast, body their mama
Rich-ass niggaz is with three llamas
Revenge in eyes, Hennessey and the ganja
Word to the wise with villain of minds
Grindin', hittin' Brazilian dimes behind
Grindin', Brazilian dimes from behind
(Grindin', hittin' dimes from behind)
Whenever, if ever, I roll up, sown up
Any ghetto tell ya Nas helped grow us up
My face once graced promotional Sony
million in billin', I helped build 'em up
Gave my my right, I could have gave left
So like my Foxy, a nigga went Def
So, nigga, who's top ten?
Is it MC
Is it MC

If hip hop should die before I
I'll put an clip inside of my AK
Roll to station, murder the DJ
Roll to every station, the DJ

If hip hop should die before I
I'll put an extended clip of my AK
Roll to station, murder the DJ
to every station, murder the DJ

Hip hop died this mornin'
And she's dead, dead

The bigger the cap, the bigger the
Come through, ill, missin' the ceilin'
What influenced my raps? Stick-ups and
Kidnappings, project buildings, drug
that, why is that?
'Cuz Nas rap is to legitimized crap
'Cuz we love to on ass we gettin'
Most will only half listen
So you blame jazz musicians
Or David Stern with his NBA fashion
Oh, I like me in my white tee
You can't ice me, we for life, B
On my marriage, hip hop's my first wifey
And for that we not it lightly
If hip hop should die, we die
Bodies in the morgue lie
All now

If hip hop die before I wake
I'll put an extended clip of my AK
to every station, murder the DJ
Roll to every station, the DJ

If hip hop should die I wake
put an extended clip inside of my AK
Roll to every station, the DJ
Roll to station, murder the DJ

sound the same, commercialize the game
Reminiscin' when it all business
If it got where it
So we all gather here for the departed
Hip since a toddler
One became a man then a mobster
If the let me get my last swig of Vodka
R.I.P., donate your lungs to a Rasta
Went from turntables to
"Beat Street" to commercials on Mickey D's
From cables to Jacobs
From plain facials to and face lifts
I'm over my shoulder
It's about eighty from my hood that showed up
And they came to love
Sold out concert, and the are closed shut