Luyện nghe bài hát Let's Ride

Yo, yo
If you just listen to my lyrics day for a couple of weeks
My techniques will eventually kill you just like red
The Gita beliefs I speak be so deep
Most critics get mad there's nothin to critique
Whenever I'm or rhymin
with irrefutably timin
I'm like, Charlie pantomimin
If you John Blaze, or you Flames
or you Jack Cremation, I'm Jermaine (Jermaine Propane)
No pain no gain in rap game
For the fortune and fame in to remain
Most real MC's, to adapt to the change
or get washed like tears in the rain, in the rain y'all

Chorus: Wyclef, Product,

[Clef] ride, just ride, ah just ride e'rybody just ride
Just ride, just ride, ah just e'rybody just ride
[Pro] When you in the and you're drivin in your V
if you can see what I see, you're prepared for the
Old school, old school
[Pras] got to pack a mac now

Yo, if you wanna know, how I kick a
when I rip a show, with my lyric-al, I'ma let you
difficult, cause I'm a part spiritual, part para-physical miracle
And blackout in a minute too
Spittin Bone-Thugs like
"Nigga-what? and stick-em-up"
then crush a Thug's Bones a chrome slug
The black DeBergerac of rap
with the ghetto poetic syntax
In fact, nigga don't even me dap when I see you
Just don't give me no ice eye contact either
When you see me, whylin like Beenie on the
"Zim -- who got the fire for my reefa?"

Product, Pras, Wyclef

[Pro] You home from a bid a nigga was in your crib
And the whole time you thought girl was celebate
[Can] Old school old
[Pras] You locked up and she need some
[Clef] Just ride, ride, ah just ride e'rybody just ride
Just ride in the hood, ride, all my .. uh, ah just ride

Yo physically I at a velocity
break your stopwatch if you clockin me
My jungle is like Jumanji
Iller than you seen in the cinema
A five eight, nigga with more horsepower than eight cylinders
My brain consists of twin chips
the clock speeds of a 586
And nothin about my physical matrix is
I kick flavor beyond what tongue is capable of tastin
You'll be so surprised you won't believe own eyes
It's like a Jamaican seein the snow for the time
Rhymes of a sort, that distort space and
It's like explainin color to a man was born blind

Chorus:

[Pro] Crimes on the street, come from a lack of
It's not my cup of tea, but I'll give the BEST
BEST
And if you still out I kick yo' ass tomorrow
Old school, old school (c'mon!)
[Pro] And if you out here, I kick yo' ass tomorrow
Old school, old school (c'mon y'all)
[Pro] Frontin like you buyin food but you buyin bottles

Ah ride, ah just ride
Everybody in the East just
Ah just ride, ah ride
Everybody in the West just
Ah to the South, South
Yeah, yeah, yeah,
Ah just