Luyện nghe bài hát (nfa) No Frontin Allowed

Mad

Brother way back.
blowing mics
Since the of
8-track.


out the weapon.
Rusted.
Your gets busted.
Run jules!
up ya damn fools.
Leavin' your
Lazy
In pools.
Went
Came
Your wack.
Now your Marly's mob
For a track.
Coming off a bra
And its the witness.
No
A fru ?
Don't care about no
Got in it.
Flipping
every letter in
The alphabet.
jump.
Jump!
And your rump.
Rump!
to pump punks
With hot lead chunks.

I ain't no with
These kid.
Put the mic
My know where ya live.
I you little
Brittle
Right up the
And the police
the fiddle
In the hospital.
said, "He
Couldn't rip the
Roughness."
Rhymes kick teeth
But end up less.
Soul of a
beats
Sending funeral
To all ya chiefs.
Is a raw
To a bearlin' in the
tapes ain't jack
Their tracks is wack.
I you think you
Got a to win
But my is stopped off
To the top ten.
Rough and and raw
I'm a callous.
The can say
"ain't no
In my palace."

can I be the
Flavor of the
I got the
I can bump a chump.
I got the
Straight my
hide-out.
I it in the house
And let the just
Ooz out.
on the scene
To let ya I
fronting
Got ya for my album
So I had to do something.
tonight
To a bit
Not a bite.
And the ?
you with
All my might.
"Here I am to
the day!"
I the tracks
the mic
So I say "To chay"
And "On Gaurd"
When I'm swinging for brow.
in the house of hits
Ain't no allowed.

Just when you
it was safe
To try and me.
Run for ya
Now here somes Mr.
And I'm pissed.
So watch how heads
I'll be the
Boy ya look out
I ya like a cook-out.
So get the
The Mr. Funky
?
And you me do my thing.
Because I hit ya with the
Of the
And make girl
"Bump-bump!
Get it, get it!"
Luke Skywalker.
I front
I love with a passion.
your head front
Into the
You think I'm slam
See when you
You mad
The weight ?
Freak
"funky twin activate!"
on the mic
With the and muscles.
Crushing
their girls
Do the hustle.
See rappers
Try to dis the
But yo, your wrong.
Dammit, we all
get along?
see
There ain't no
allowed.
Yo, I'm out
Like the show
to the Funky Child.

Punching
God-damn
Off
it up north
Lookin' your
off ?
It's a blash
And crash my stash.
Be your back kid.
Your girl and the path.
Talking your macks and tax.
with that?
Your getting wet
sex.
Ripping on old school kid.
Leaving as a slit
I wet your crib.
No question.
Testing the
And the and
the ammo was released and
I'll make your
and getcha.
you get the picture.
Boy better off
If a pit bit ya!
its like
In the fight.
the hype.
I'm giving more
Nose jobs Mike.
Fight sight
They
light tonight
Is
Trigger tripe
hit bite
My right.
And ya it's coming off
So ask it.
Snatching the
And on the rap tip.
ya boys up.
Bringing the up.
And now ya stitches
my voice cuts.

Gain
And raw.
And let a brother play it
Is my law.