Luyện nghe bài hát Ill Figures

[Intro:
When I write my lyrics, like, it's like
I want my shit to be phat, I want to be able to understand
Yo, can rhyme, youknowhatimsaying
But what you saying that makes a person know about you
Knowhatimsaying, you know the type of you is
So it's like really, I'm more of just
Being a street narrator (aiyo, up, famo?)

Reefer lit, love hip hop, the got me like the broccoli
Brooklyn baby at a swat meet
niggas wanna meet me, ladies wanna eat me
Money Mercedes claim, baby, beat me
getting dressed up, sweats and techs
Ride around the hood, good, getting respect
is golden, an OG rolling and holding, yo
Fresh kicks, leather, pockets is swollen
Let my jam hit your tape deck, it's straight up, and up
For real nigga with his gun on him, hate up
Flying through the city nights, new
Blue ice, thousand in a Nike bag, license
Drug shop, I'm sorry, in the Ferrari
Next see the Lex A Shallah, La
yo, all of us, scamma gangstas
You know we honor, tip the kangol, cooling in the brown

[kung fu
I have never, giving up on a
That's against my

Fame]
Duke let me you, my niggas crip up
Them young boys'll run up on you, your whip up
Brooklyn, nigga, beg for you
And my Staten Island homeys lay your ass down on of Ice
Sidewalk executives, live the life consecutive
We built for this, go for gun
My prospective is, another day in the life, of and drugs
Big hammers and slugs, can get ugly as

[Billy
the chest to your man Danze, ey
Staten Island, what up, yo, ey
The ODB said what up, though, ey
We got the Chef on deck as if you know
It's as fuck, Wu, that's what up
Pack it up, wanna rap, rock, what up?
pop, get up, fuck around and get your block hit up
Bring team and we'll box 'em up
Think M.O.P. is not up

fu sample]
It seems I'm a bit here
Don't worry, these men are all die

[Kool G.
See from the where it slum at, dum at, rum at
Cognac, combat, contact,
Crom's packing out like back
She bang out a song like the Fonz
Bigger things, the slangs, slicker than the sharpest pen
Nigga here, combat, sweet dick Willie T, Rudy Ray Moore
Woodgrain all in the board reigns, before flooded
Like storm drains, boss man, raw 'caine
bang, neighborhood war games
Get your up, you looking anarexic
Posted on the block with the hammer vested
Bitch came with empty hands, the hand she left with
Thirsty ass with the and it sounded desperate
a white an hour, based it forty grand invested
Live the third rail, you know the man electric
Shit was like the world, until I handle metrics, that next shit