Luyện nghe bài hát Holy Moly

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

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

These corporate rappers like, "Why this pickin' on me?"
You rap your way to the top but now it's lonely
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? Your shit is real? Damn, shit is corny
turn a new page like Mark Foley
And touch like when Larry Clark gave the part to Chloe

in peace 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, that's
Bet you Reid got a Matt Doo tattoo
Sometimes I feel like I'm drownin', I tread water
Head the water, I always remember headquarters

Heads up, eyes open, I got my focused
I find hope a line, my rhymes define opus
hopeless people fill my thoughts with evil
My record so it broke the needle

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

Too many good niggaz die, it's a stop loss
Hood niggaz ghetto like fried and hot sauce
How you hard? The cops 50 shots off
Baby Jay-Z's with the knockoff Scott 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 sweets, the beats weaker than gelatin

We to kick up dust, now we settlin'
in peace to Dilla, Weldon, we can't forget you
Professor X and we miss you, word

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