Luyện nghe bài hát Letters

"What are you to do?" (2X)
"Nigga!"
"The K the the L the G-R-A-P letters"
"My mic nice, check one"
"The K the the L the G-R-A-P letters"
"Sound nice" (cut and scratched)

[Kool G.
Rougher than Gotti, in
Got a body harder than
Your got her skins boned
I'm her down with my skintone
It's Brown-er than cause humpin is my hobby
in the end zone, with mens, that made her friends moan
Listen and learn and on your tuners if he looney
? ? I break, zoom, like Honeymooners
I want singers, but finger snappers, speaker slappers
The wickeder rapper the dapper rapper's when I my trapper
Got ass gassed by Amoco, you know you ain't man to go
up, head up, so I set up to slam a hoe
I don't give a heck, but I peck on a redneck
You pull cards, you're a dead deck, bed check
Lead my from tec, come and up and get your head red
a sec, you comin to see what's left?
I catch my breath, rappers slayed
or like Jeff to the left
And none of you nitwits can get this hit shit
You dipstics, even kiss, but no lipstick
I run a style but a mile to bust a child
Big ol snappy happy rappers like Gomer Pyle
Hell, I'm ringin with a ding-dong
I play you ping-pong
You swingin on my ding-a-long Kong
I pop bad cops, I got a pig a day
Bing bing BANG, just like the ricochet
Grab it, your sound is just a lady baby, maybe
you're old as Grady, in the 80's, metaphors born in Haiti
I pop to the top, now the hip-hop glock pop
Whenever it drops, I run over rappers at the record
You name your I'll say, who, like owls
Pass me a towel, and I'ma move my bowels all over his
ten men, then I'll send my venom in em
You gonna win em cause he got a women's momentum
And I don't wanna hear this queer
Cause one of these niggaz doesn't belong here
My rhymes are the nine millimeter Beretta
Cause rappers could do yo I could do it better

"The K the the L the G-R-A-P letters"
"My mic sound nice, two"
"The K the double-O the L the letters"
"sound nice" (cut and scratched)

You no-frill slow toy, thrills, no joy
My lyrical skills give me Pillsbury
Back, I'm packin em up like the Ripper
pally'll I'm pullin the zipper
Finger popped, the better the batter or
You're out of date, you must be the Show, I hate those
puttin on the brakes slow, uh-oh, get Maaco
Dead-on, collision, bad decision
You wanna see me nigga you check your vision
It ain't 20/20 money silly your funny
Your get smashed just like a crash test dummy
Retire, an MC that Meyer could take
of you wacky rappers just play anyway
that's
So come and swing wild, mild child, and get your style
HEY HEY HEY! Should I say it's than Albert
Play at your own risk, if you diss, got a lotta hot
turnin cold, better go and sip on some Swiss
Inner city, like bitties, you're pussy
so here kitty kitty, get some milk from my hoe's titties
Cross at the not in between or get hit G
Red light, green light, one two
Out for the dash, but in the flash, you let me pass
crash, now that ass is in a bodycast
Everytime I put out my records and
go bananas like this was Planet of the Apes
Grapes I bust em like cherries and lay down, bitches tickets
to ride the dick and sit it like a Greyhound
Down with the clowns actin like killers, as good as soldiers
See niggaz, you ain't even Magilla
Bass in your face, like mace
I'm bringin the right taste, hangin like
up the pace