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 son, Garcia Vega
Two bags of chips, and one of Now and Laters
Flame tucked down to my nuts, on my last
Only thing keep a nigga calm is a fuck
Loose-leaf be dipped in wet
of the seas get trapped inside my net
With their clothes off, son the gun goes off
I'm bound to play Napoleon, and a nose off

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You must be son I walk with twelve jewels
Afford anything this could sell you
Beats that the change the rearrange ya
BZA-Bobby! I'm strikin' you like

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

Fuckin' up the mic is still my
up the mic is still my hobby
Yo, yo, it be
yeah