Luyện nghe bài hát Kiss The Ring

[**feat. Inspectah & Masta Killa:]
[Intro: w/ various others in background (Inspectah Deck)~]
Suga, here, aiyo man, tell ya man
He better bring fucking money here tomorrow, man
You, up in the joint with me, man
It's all real, yo, what up
Yo, hold the bottle, it's night, nigga!
It's night! *bottles popping*
Yeah, mad bottles! Playboy! We out of here, man
(Step inside, kiss the --- so salute, and toast to the best who done it)
{Give it up for the Clan!}
[Chorus (2x): Deck~]
I step inside, kiss the ring, Wu Familia
La Cosa Nostra, our thing
So salute, and toast to the who done it
Murder rap shit, I spit, for the who love it

By the you read this letter
Your head fly off your shoulder for lying
And be in bed like holders
Blood from a horse on spread, you tried to play me now
I'm up, dough on your head, you just a baby
See me in the flick as a Rick, I had to maybe me
All these niggas in the 90's, getting rich
Rick robe on with rings, walking to the throne
like I know I'm the king, I live alone though
Buying up, China's Beemers, it to Simon's in Medina
Only just to you and leave ya
These boys is crafted with aim, I bought 'em all
Fly ranches, cuz they all stand me with flames
Regardless, yo, to the classic, you gon' witness some of the tactics
died, live in the action
A live general when he walk, if he died, then we
Ninety thou' in the coffin, and take the
Chorus:]
[Inspectah
Black Jesus, check my walk, check my
Legend in the and I rep New York
Crowned king, been down to bang, I'm House
Knockout specialist, in and out the
Got tables long as boats with old kitchens
And Wu-Tang logos splashed on all the
You know how I speaks the truth, how I teach the
I'm an animal, I the booth
grinding, banging out for food to eat
Your boy eating good, check my new physique
the world is mine, I'mma write my name on the clouds
So ol' yee faithful, can praise it and bow
Killa:]
Now he's an old Mafia don, from back
He managed to survive the game, fame
It's how he maintained, the State of Grace, his lab laced
Ladies of a fine taste, kept his guarded
While the young charted, acquitted, all charges
And his heart loss and, marksmen the contract
the contact, waiting for the right event, it all made sense
He no prints on the weapon, and he was blasting
Came home from prison stashing, still
His whip still matching his kit, steel
Hands quick, nice with his shit, holy foods
Drops jewels, from a street corner level, brother, I'mma rebel
Here to private soldiers to buck arms
Ya'll rap cats had your last win, the kings
It's Wu-Tang, it's our thing, the ring
Chorus:] (2x)