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 of Now and Laters
Flame tucked down to my nuts, on my buck
Only thing keep a nigga calm is a fuck
cigarettes be dipped in wet
Chicken of the seas get inside my net
With their clothes off, son when the gun off
I'm bound to play Napoleon, and blow a off

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

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

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

I keep rice soaked in coconut mixed with Tofu
Sit in the sun six hours then I charge up like
Z, imagine you're raggin' 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 tri-state
Plus, Feds had one add, sayin' I gun
I sold twenty records bitch, some laugh

shafts of morning dew on Nancy Drew
Sherlock Holmes crime sleuth figure the Wu
You loaf of head, keep a sober head
One point five million years my

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

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

You be Bellevue 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 Beatlemania

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

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