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 down to my nuts, on my last buck
thing keep a nigga calm is a good fuck
Loose-leaf be dipped 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 rap style, your flow's off
Like Kunta, tryin' to run with his chopped off
Unchallenged sword I yield the rider
full of ruffled-tip fast-actin' long fire
Four hundred grain cartridge, with steel
Those who can't draw the is still tracin'
The mic is cast to the floor and
Heavy as the hammer of Thor you can't it

So tense, bitch there's no
This four-four inch'll you jump the fence
Right eye squinted; I speak English
Stumble off the four-oh of old English Wu brew
inside the shoe
No what this heat, in my jacket could do
I teach, seeds to read, never reach for the indeed
Bow down to the great Bob Digi

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

I keep rice soaked in coconut milk with Tofu
Sit in the sun six hours I charge up like Goku
Dragonball Z, imagine you're me
That's like walkin' through a hood flaggin' a C
Not, tryin' to tell you how much weight we
It may get, every in the tri-state buried
Plus, Feds had one add, sayin' I gun
I sold twenty million bitch, some laugh

Fresh shafts of dew on Nancy Drew
Holmes crime sleuth couldn't figure the Wu
You loaf of bread head, keep a head
One point million years 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 keep my in the muzzle
Ice cold forty ounce 'em down with one guzzle
Son spit a word at a bird, see if she chirp back
Tall chocolate deluxe buttercup, off the rack
A chickenhead scratch the for worms
And roosters walk around with heads in the perm
I be spreadin' knowledge keepin' my eye polished
Never, chase for dollars to fulfill the wallet

You be Bellevue son I walk with twelve jewels
Afford anything this world sell you
that the change the style'll 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
F-fuckin' up the mic is still my
Yo, yo, it be
Yeah