Luyện nghe bài hát Holy Moly

Yeah, as a kid growin' up in
My pops was a DJ, he had a of records
Funk, jazz, rhythm and blues, soul, you know I'm sayin'?

There was this one gospel I liked like, like
Like holy moly, I might get religion and leave you holy, holy
Yeah, rhyme is so fat, it's roly poly
I give you details so you can get to know me

corporate rappers like, "Why this dude pickin' on me?"
You rap your way to the top but now it's gettin'
Kids is hungry and you lookin' like a steak Nick & Tony's
But don't nobody want your jewels 'cause your shit is

Say word? shit is real? Damn, your shit is corny
Rhymes turn a new page Mark Foley
And touch kids like when Larry Clark the part to Chloe

Rest in to Harold Hunter, the greatest from New York
Started out for Zoo York, word
out at The Gavin, I was very lucky
To talk to once I got past Derek Dudley

Got him on respiration, pre-Badu
Bet you Garnett Reid got a Matt Doo
Sometimes I feel like I'm drownin', I gotta water
Head above the water, I remember headquarters

Heads up, open, I got my mind focused
I find hope inside a line, my rhymes define
Sometimes hopeless fill my thoughts with evil
My record so hard it the needle

At the Mixtape Awards act like they don't give a fuck though
And disrespect the legacy of
What the blood No, let the blood flow
You ain't come to pay respect, then what you come fo'?

Too many niggaz die, it's like a stop loss
Hood niggaz ghetto like wings and hot sauce
How you hard? The cops lettin' 50 off
Baby Jay-Z's with the knockoff Storch beat

You are not Short, you are not
You're not a player or a pimp, money stop
Learn to master your speech and be
Rappers keep peddlin' sweets, the beats than gelatin

We used to kick up dust, now we
Rest in to Dilla, Weldon, we can't forget you
Professor X and Proof we you, word

in peace to Shaka, 21 gun salute
In the air like blak, blak,
You're still 'cause you're livin' through me
You're a gift God has given to me, what?