Luyện nghe bài hát Last Of The Spiddyocks

I'm blue mood yall, I slive jiva yall
I'm actually yall, invented time yall
In ten fourths yall, I pay cap yall
I player late yall and draw to

I bust raps yall, in love with yall
The sweet kid, I speak my thoughts yall
I wreck the yall, dont trust the flag yall
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 was goddamn
And questions 'bout the methods how the made jam

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

Maybe we was hip to stretchin' out the brain
I felt Bird Parker when I it in my vein
I toss major losses on the Mingus jazzy strum
Flip off a nod and dig myself a dyin' young

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

Was it that the rebirth was the birth for new shit, of cool
The power showers from the crew was sure legit
But hey, present since Hank Mo's gone
They kill the coolest in this land of the free

And it like that since they lied about they flag
Like all my mans gave they beats up for skags
So I pops it at your crew 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 yall and fades a now
I know the nat yall I'm layin' out yall,

The been smooth like the suede
that butter got when butter got paid
Or better yet Dolphy's for cool dudes
Or better still usin' space in afro blue

Its simple, swing be the of the time
The spinnin' by the kings good for of the mind
The seven sessions gave the buzzes that I caught
They was it cool blues knowledge
(What you thought?)

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

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

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

Uh, the seasons been fat some boom
Doodlebugs math jazz fillin' up the
When jam with Eric at the funky five spot
Jimmy Cob's job was layin' on the top

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

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

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

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