Luyện nghe bài hát Let's Ride

Yo, yo
If you just to my lyrics every day for a couple of weeks
My techniques will eventually kill you like red meat
The Bhagavad beliefs I speak be so deep
Most critics get mad because nothin to critique
Whenever I'm or rhymin
with remarkable timin
I'm like, Charlie Chaplin
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 in order to remain
Most real MC's, to adapt to the change
or get washed away like tears in the rain, in the y'all

Chorus: Wyclef, Product,

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

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

Product, Pras, Wyclef

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

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

Chorus:

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

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