Luyện nghe bài hát Lupe Back

[Lupe Fiasco - 1]
Yield, to the forces of
I bring you the torches of our
Reinforced with of Wolverine's
Arms with the harshness and sharpness
Now how far do the arms
My nigga, from the to the starfish
From the baby to the
a whole lot of light and a whole lot of armlift
My long, but I'm lawless
A arm, I can lift up all this
You have to build a bigger farm for us
To them wolves out of Old MacDonald barn, bitch
Yeah, Jacob
We're long armed, put my arms on a
Everytime I put my in the air
Watch the as I dance in the chair
Throw my crown in the crowd, it lands on the heir
The weak niggas to pass interfere
Spend a lot of lint jams in the year
That act like the man up in
That don't count when your only real fan is a
That's subliminal to any nigga he feel he is too
But you don't stand a chance,
I am there, Chi-Town, fan of the
Love they dance in the square
Yeah, Yankees too, but cause Granderson there
And now khaki pants on La Brea
We all friends, why man lookin' scared?
whiter than Anderson hair
Came out the garage he saw a phantom in there, huh

2]
Oh shit alert, clothes
Callin bitches, Louboutin and Gucci shows
Well, I guess goes my Louis shows
More o shit, if your role a movie role
And if you live life like it's a studio
Talkin' to us like we mics, a bunch of you ain't do
Electric for a urinal
keep a toaster in my jacuzzi, yo
Shock-a-zulu, call me II
Oh shit, man record labels prostitute you
Strap to sushi bars, and feed em lots of fugu
a bad piece
You can stick that 360 your asscheeks
let's mobilize and unionize like the athletes
Radio is our craft weak
Forced to repeat the same dumb shit that
Only as hot as your last
And rappers, they relating to that last
Album never leave they if you don't got no B.D.S
Sacrifice your publishin', said you really need a hook
And they ain't gon' pay you, that you received a look
And what's stupid real, is what feel
Twenty placements or you stuck in producer deal
And R&B so get it the wildest
All money goes to hairdressers and stylists
Gotta keep up with image
Label lose they mind if they ever see a
impeals, airbrushers and trainers
Managers suggest you a nigga to be famous, huh
But all entertainment
Wonder when Cobain out his brains, did he blame it?
And if those in the industry helped him aim it
Started pressing up records the bullet left the chamber
I fight evil, everyday I'm
Rest in peace to men, women and the
And middle fingers to the Pilgrims killed 'em
Friend of the People, happy