Luyện nghe bài hát Must Be Bobby

Bo-bby, Bo-bby,

Bo-bby, Bo-bby,
Bo-bby, Bo-bby, Bo-bby,

Yo,
Yo, yo, RZA
Yo, yo, RZA
B-Bobby, yo

Hit the bodega for a 40 ounce son, Garcia
Two bags of chips, and one pack of Now and
Flame tucked down to my nuts, on my last
Only thing keep a calm is a good fuck
Loose-leaf cigarettes be in wet
Chicken of the seas get trapped my net
With clothes off, son when the gun goes off
I'm bound to play Napoleon, and a nose off

Your Sphinx, your stumble rap style, flow's off
Like Kunta, tryin' to run with his toes off
Unchallenged sword I yield the rider
Clip full of ruffled-tip fast-actin' long
Four hundred cartridge, with steel casin'
Those who can't the crowd is still tracin'
The mic is cast to the floor and
as the hammer of Thor you can't lift it

So tense, there's no defense
four-four inch'll make you jump the fence
Right eye squinted; I speak brok-len
Stumble off the cold four-oh of old Wu brew
Two-two the shoe
No describin' what this heat, in my jacket do
I teach, seeds to read, never for the weed indeed
Bow down to the great Bob Digi

Yo, it be Bobby
Oh, no, it must be
Oh, no, it must be
Oh, no, it be

I keep rice soaked in coconut milk mixed Tofu
Sit in the sun six hours I charge up like Goku
Dragonball Z, imagine you're me
That's like walkin' through a Blood flaggin' a C
Not, tryin' to tell you how much we carry
It may get, every snake in the buried
Plus, Feds had one add, I gun traffed
I sold million records bitch, some laugh

shafts of morning dew on Nancy Drew
Sherlock Holmes sleuth couldn't figure the Wu
You loaf of bread head, a sober head
One point five million years my

Yo, yo, it must be
Yo, yo, it must be
Oh, no, it be Bobby
Yo, check, yo

I keep MC's puzzled keep my dogs in the
Ice cold forty drink 'em down with one guzzle
Son might a word at a bird, see if she chirp back
chocolate deluxe buttercup, off the meat rack
A chickenhead scratch the yard for
And roosters walk around with heads in the perm
I be spreadin' knowledge keepin' my third eye
Never, chase for to fulfill the black wallet

You must be son I walk with twelve jewels
Afford anything this world sell you
Beats that the change the style'll ya
BZA-Bobby! I'm you like Beatlemania

Yo, it must be
Oh, no, it must be
Yo, son, it be Bobby
BZA-buh, BZA-wha',

Fuckin' up the mic is still my
F-fuckin' up the mic is my hobby
Yo, yo, it be
Yeah