Luyện nghe bài hát Last Call

Intro: and j-ro

Yo last call, call, last call for alcohol!
At two, through!

ay bartendah! bartender!
{bart} yo whassup
{j-ro} ay man, man let me get a... rummmmm an
{bart} yo man you think you had a little bit too much to drink?
{j-ro} ay let me get one more man
{bart} yo man I'm lookin out for you man, it's your
{j-ro} man I'll hop over this motherfucker and get my own damn

Hey niggy, what it is...

Verse tash

time to roll my sleeves, fuck a few mc's up
Another rough cut, from the that won't ease up
The alkaholik click, aka the downers
Flips rhymes calvin flips fries and quarter pounders
I never and drive 'cause I might spill my drink
I the breathalizer so they took me to the clink
Niggaz earlin in the sink they can't fade the cisco
I'm the old school but I never rocked a disco
Loops the group that, likes to smack the bitches
Tha liks is hittin hookers a gangsta hittin switches
Front, to the back, to the side, to the
And make you with these bitches but, no electric slidin
And I'm about to flip, but I'm bout to sip
Off the forty ounce of brew that I was for the trip
Back to the lab all I do is bang cuts
That's why I hang around my like a dick hang with nuts

Verse j-ro

I push one two's when niggaz on my shoes
Oh you haven't heard the news I've been giving blues
Manhandling chumps that step up, just to my rep up
I my fist through your grill
I never a gangsta, thanks ta, my skill
On the nine inches of
You ask me what the k's for, they don't nothin
["k's for the way my kuttin" -- schoolly d, p.s.k.]

tash, group

Last call y'all y'all}
Call y'all y'all}
{last call, for
Last call y'all y'all}
Call {call y'all}
{last call, for

[j-ro] yeah...
[tash] alkaholik style

three: e-swift

Uh, I be one of dem niggaz known to drink a gang of
Float like the wind, so all can call me cool breeze
than my man morris day in the winter
The dope rhyme inventor, shows at the center
So pass the mic on the, low
Now go grab a forty from the liquor
And you don't stop {don't stop} and you don't {don't quit}
Unless you're in the making wack shit

[j-ro] yeah... that nigga is in the house

Verse j-ro

I got a forty-four mag with the (with a clip)
So mc's watch your lip, cause I'm shootin the hip ahh
I rip like oprah, in jeans do
And splits a needle wrap a pair man because shits is on the fritz
It's crazy, a few mc's me
With this alkie of rock, mr. spock couldn't phase me
Rhymin pays me, but I do it
Many say, ay, when it comes to rhymes you got j
I'm so cool I drink ounces of freon
You never see me on the with a peon
When we on the microphone it's like all alone
We slam, competition, scram
Can we get nope.
Switchblade to the throat to who ain't dope
Call me the clepto, 'cause I'm stealing to the jaw
Of these rappers, trying to get raw

Verse tash

Soul in my strut, muscle in my
It's just a little something for them that wanna bust they little
Def jam comedy, that make me crack up
You better call the one-time and tell em send a
'cause I'm about to act up, I couldn't a verse
say he got it bad, so that mean I got it worse
Check uno dos, crack a forty, a toast
Let me rip the and impress the west coast

[j-ro] uhh... damn it feels my bones is rattling
Uhh shit! I'm outta here...

Ohh yeah, tell the sons of jones to my ass