Luyện nghe bài hát Lisa Lipps

Run for the cue

Lisa
Was a Stone, huh
Yeah, wherever she slap wasn't home
And now she's gone, no sun
Shine she's gone

Hum do a lah, that means, What up,
the Mighty Ha drinkin' Mo' at the bar
Bakee after bakee, blunt after
Smoke a bag of buhdah and became with the skunk
Nat Cole was a merry old soul
Made you that ab, drop shit from your whole
Grab a budjock and lick from the glock
You were told to swing off a tree from a
Run up in and Elvis, now I'm gone
Back on the in the heart of P Long
Man oh man lick shots if I to
Submit to me as your lord and
It's the Mighty Ha, I'm a Bronx, I
Deliver the real like Walter
God I'm a destiny, man
Devil's in the rain the backhand

Yesterday, my trouble seems so far
So help me Wanda, help, help, me

Be a beast known and the Y, O, G
your moon walk, spin walk grab your ti ty
Hit you in the head the broom to the back
Sport a of Balley's and a Mighty Ha hat
Comin the Bronx like KRS One
Electrify the crowd like they shooting stone
Rhythem Cru, Violator, Def Jam
Known for lyrics and smackin mad hands
Ahh, give a uh
Caught for the cause 17 to the
It's the Mighty Ha the mic and the glock
My style's buck what day is it ack?
of situation pops from uptown
You can lick balls cause I front to be
Til I lie rep a dollar kickin the to the Hiedy
Rhythem Cru, Baby Chris Lighty

never ran before
Rain never
Til I met you
And I get enough of your love, babe

What!?
Chim, chim, chim, chim, che-ree
Comin the top, ah, it's the Migh ty
Hit you with the and a misdemeanor
Hit a hundred push-ups and I got the spray
Got mad buttocks, ass cheeks, yo
Got more than a Nicachew pac
I'm the maker, owner, of the crop
Felicha you to the top
I can't to get rid of these fuckin chickenheads
Word to the drop dead brest fed
You duck down when I draw my 8 luger
that ass quickie, better skin bag of booty

What goes on ya