Luyện nghe bài hát John Horse

(Before begins)

Blast it until its

(music begins)

Clap for me, for me, Clap

for me, Clap for me, Clap

Clap hands for what he's doing

Horns!

This is so

Go!

to the T

Coming from the bottom to the

Rahim Samad in the to be

(1st verse)

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

(Chorus 2x)

VaultCLassic, on the way to the top
Rappers that hate, we just they spot
and can stay 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
can't me, i'm not Kunta Kente
I a slave, I'm my mother's son
And if they tried to cut my foot I'd they butt with my other one
I didn't son, no i'm not the dutterman
Tampa is i'm coming from
There another one
more realer than this brother shining from the sun
Under the Mason dixon line, my position i'm
of cat to settle beef at any place and time
you couldn't walk in my shoes or even up mine
the judge didn't throw out my case and I ain't pay my
To hell with the prosecution and state, thats my of mind
i'm a fool with it, young 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
Rappers that hate, we taking they spot
and they can stay mad we're making it hot
It be V-C-P the day that we drop

(3rd Verse)

Rahim's back, better than before
in my own lane with the pedal to the floor
Buffalo soldiers, rebels in war
Thats steet educated to the
Raised by ghetto imams and apostles
two edged sword as a tongue, turned hostile
there's it can't chop through
got a glock 26 mind to pop you, tip thoughts to stop you
Richard Roundtree afro, this Castro
turns when you mess with his cashflow, why try?
Say Buenos Noches to the bad guy, Samad
you won't see a bad guy like this again (let me tell you)

(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 till the day that we drop