Luyện nghe bài hát Last Of The Spiddyocks

I'm mood yall, I slive with jiva yall
I'm actually deep yall, invented yall
In ten fourths yall, I pay cap yall
I player late yall and down to

I bust raps yall, in love with yall
The sweet beats kid, I speak my yall
I wreck the break yall, dont trust the flag
I dig the yall, I'm layin' out now, yeah

The been good like a sweet
I hang out with a gang out flat bush with beats
I found the reverberated shout was
And questions 'bout the methods how the Planets jam

through a gang a murk in the interim
I couple time we got jerked but still invented
little kinky joints that got us ghetto weight
And also kept the jazz alive by pullin' off the

Maybe only we was hip to stretchin' out the
I felt Bird when I shot it in my vein
I toss these major losses on the Mingus jazzy
Flip off into a nod and dig a dyin' young

Its like was the bop and the flair
I kicks to my pools by the nap of hair
I'm pinnin' Sam for the death of swingin' quotes
For losin' Bud Powell slidin' over Dizzy's

Was it that the rebirth was the for new shit, of cool shit
The jazz power from the crew was sure legit
But hey, present since gone Hank gone
They kill the coolest breeze in this land of the

And it been like that since they lied about they
all my main mans gave they beats up for skags
So I pops it at your like Bu I did a lid
But I used Lee's Cooker got my buzz midnight

I'm so shy yall, I'm hip to yall
From sector six, and now and then too
I slows the trims and fades a fake now
I know the nat yall I'm layin' out yall,

The seasons been smooth the suede
Pumas that butter got butter got paid
Or better yet archetypes for cool dudes
Or better still Trane usin' space in afro

Its simple, swing be the freakin' of the
The spinnin' by the kings good for speakin' of the
The forty seven sessions gave the that I caught
They asked was it blues knowledge
(What you thought?)

I told 'em it was solid, dig, the was way out
My loves to kiss when Ornette just lays out
So the quotes be as bout the kits, uh
You down with Digable yous a hipster, shit

I lay it on the cats about
The logical comin' boomin' out that trunk
Assumin' that the in which you zooms designed by your mind
Not the stars and stripes but red Cali?
And the by Max or Philly Joe on we go

The fly shit yall, we dont quit
Its slick beats and its out there
A smooth kid, the jive is high yall
We aint marks okay pow me up

Uh, the been fat like some boom
Doodlebugs math jazz fillin' up the
When Booker jam with Eric at the funky spot
Jimmy job was layin' crashes on the top

cop his lid at this little Harlem jam
The tenor bop the middle and his and his tam
I'm diggin' how these made my buzz a little hipper
And angles on the moves really couldnt get no

I'm deep to the sleekness of the horn
I'm thinkin' take the hipness and just lay it in my
So when the hoodlums waitin' for another anthem
I say its in the cause it notin' but rhythm

And rhythm goes on and on to the break of moon,
The dads is gone but they used to come
The sickness towards the worlds cause Sam caused the
But hipness takes a swirl and by my crew

Infect space yall, we swing time
Its milk yeah, its like be bop
The new slips, oh shit, we got fly kicks
Its jazz, uh, its like us now