Luyện nghe bài hát John Horse

(Before begins)

Blast it its deafening

(music begins)

Clap for me, Clap for me,

for me, Clap for me, Clap

Clap your for what he's doing

Horns!

This is so

Go!

to the T

Coming from the bottom to the

Rahim in the place to be

(1st verse)

Most of rappers are short change
Only time they hard is when snorting that cocaine
claiming that they street but aren't real with no shame
until you put that heat to their like propane
no name rappers want to ball no game, no aim
can't make a basket, grab the rock and it
over to crew for the two, Vaultclassic
Rahim is guaranteed to move the masses
flow is so nasty, needs to detox
this Michael Jackson is off the wall with no sheet rock
knocking till the stops
my style is phatter than the fat from the fat boys that did the beatbox
got the mind of a young George Jackson, young boys 'Who's that?'
from the trigga state, or the gunshine state blasting
until those red and blue lights are
from the dirty south and the north, all I do is blend the
got my crew outside the club its time to it
suits and timberland boots be our fashion
school of knocks wasn't one day absent
of the board, the ASR assailant
God is my train of thought, can't it
if your blind to the realness, this will braille it
if real music floats your boat, this will sail it

(Chorus 2x)

VaultCLassic, on the way to the top
Rappers that hate, we just they spot
and they can mad while we're making it hot
It be V-C-P till the day that we

(2nd verse)

My art is martial, a sensei
control me, i'm not Kunta Kente
I ain't a slave, I'm my son
And if they to cut my foot I'd kick they butt with my other one
I didn't stutter son, no i'm not the
Tampa is where i'm coming
There another one
more realer than this brother from the Southern sun
the Mason dixon line, changing my position i'm
type of cat to settle beef at any place and
you couldn't in my shoes or even lace up mine
the judge didn't out my case and I ain't pay my fine
To hell with the prosecution and state, my state of mind
i'm a with it, young Elijah Poole with it
Old heads liken my flow to a tool is spitting
This be the Son of Man that teach the true and
God a mystery spook, they must be kidding

(Chorus 2x)

VaultCLassic, on the way to the top
that hate, we just taking they spot
and they can mad while we're making it hot
It be V-C-P till the day that we

(3rd Verse)

back, even better than before
stay in my own lane the pedal to the floor
Buffalo soldiers, in this war
Thats steet to the core
Raised by ghetto imams and apostles
two edged sword as a tongue, turned hostile
there's nothing it can't chop
got a glock 26 to pop you, hollow tip thoughts to stop you
Roundtree afro, this young Castro
turns savage when you mess his cashflow, why try?
Say Buenos to the bad guy, Rahim Samad
Cause you won't see a bad guy like this (let me tell you)

(Chorus 2x)

VaultCLassic, on the way to the top
that hate, we just taking they spot
and they can stay mad while we're it hot
It be V-C-P till the day that we