Luyện nghe bài hát Lisa Lipps

Run for the cue

Lisa
Was a Stone, huh
Yeah, wherever she slap slob wasn't
And now gone, ain't no sun
Shine meaning gone

Hum do a lah, that means, What up,
the Mighty Ha drinkin' Mo' at the bar
Bakee after bakee, blunt after
a bag of buhdah and became bitche's with the skunk
Nat King Cole was a merry old
Made you move that ab, drop shit from your
Grab a and lick shot from the glock
You were told to off a tree from a jump
Run up in and Elvis, now I'm gone
Back on the streets in the heart of P
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 like Walter Chronkite
God I'm a destiny, man
Devil's in the rain receive the

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

Be a none known and the Y, O, G
Make your walk, spin walk grab your ti ty
Hit you in the head with the broom to the
Sport a pair of and a Mighty Ha hat
Comin from the like KRS One
Electrify the crowd like they shooting stone
Blunt Cru, Violator, Def Jam
Known for tricken lyrics and smackin mad
Ahh, don't a uh
Caught for the 17 to the shot
the Mighty Ha with the mic and the glock
My style's naughty what day is it ack?
Type of pops from uptown
You can lick balls cause I front to be
Til I lie rep a dollar kickin the to the Hiedy
Blunt Cru, Baby Chris Lighty

Ponies ran before
never fell
Til I met you
And I can't get of your love, babe

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

What goes on ya