Luyện nghe bài hát No Airplay

Yo the brooklyn bridge is gonna y'know?
Yo this wyclef jean and the all-stars up in here
Yo what's this I about the police in brooklyn?
this jam up, yo, yo
This the type of jam that be no airplay
I want the whole world to hear this joint here, yo
This the type of jam that be getting no
You asked for it buddy, it comes

One two, watch out for the man in
Three four, I it raw and hardcore
Five six, beating us with nightsticks
Seven eight, I'm to pack a thirty-eight
Nine ten, you put me in a pen; if I
Do it all again, I'd probably your chin
*repeat 2x: first "ah"; second time "once I leave the pen"*

I'm a land of black bats, alley rats and cats
up my car, set me up for the carjack
Under pressure, I leave the gat
Two straps, a of sixteen caps
Say positive? no positivity
positivity, more positivity brutality
Thugs get angry, the increase
You want peace, wyclef chief of police
through the hood, it's the same ol story
It's either you play ball or you dealy dealy
Standin on the block when the get hot
Guaranteed to get set up, by a cop
So I'm back, rhymin on instrumentals
Anything I touch, it monumental
Me and wonder, we keep it credible
For the streets, at the same time, we eat
When we commercialize it's to
We guarantee to sell a mil before we die
But jerry is broke, that's the
Nine-seven, like no more eviction
No war milk, no more government cheese
Police keep on at our bulletproof bentley

Yo this the type of jam that be no airplay
The brooklyn bridge to collapse, apocalypse
This the type of jam that be getting no
The ghettoes are fed up, we got the in the air

One two, out for the man in blue
Three four, I keep it raw and
Five six, beating us with nightsticks
eight, I'm forced to pack a thirty-eight
Nine ten, you put me in a if I could
Do it all again, I'd bust your chin

Yo bust
Forty caliber, seventeen your character
Waterworld's world, underwater, sub
Derringer, twenty-two one in the
Seven, four-eight, on the calender
My word verses, raps you rap nervous
It's worthless, you get up, on the surface
Projectile, my style, blood on silver
The red ripper, fill up the resevoir
Armageddeon, you smack on, a world crisis
The nicest, for sixteen bars, of

One two, watch out for the man in
Three four, I it raw and hardcore
Five six, you're sticking me with
Seven eight, I'm to call canibus
Nine ten, you put me in a if I could
Do it all again, I'd probably bust your chin

You got a gat nigga, use it, go 'head it
Scientists got raw of me dodgin bullets
I walk the with heat, three biscuits
Outnumberin twin glocks with triplets
When I spit shit I lace it, you get in face with
Puncutations of five-knuckle
I assure you the standin before you
Will destroy you with hot enough to flamebroil you
My tongue moves faster than yours do
Every three thousand styles I change my oil
Embarass you in front of your to annoy you
If you know some chicks suck a good dick, then I'll employ you
To this hip-hop shit, canibus loyal
why every killuminati I battle somebody for you
I'm you, me versus you, I hurt you
My enables me to squaredance in a circle
Your head'll spin so fast catch whiplash
I lyrical witchcraft on your bitch ass
your hard drive crash to c colon backslash (c:/)
Go back to the roots and reprogram your wack ass,

One two, out for the man in blue
Three four, I keep it raw and
Five six, you're sticking us with
Seven eight, I'm to pack a thirty-eight
ten, you put me in a pen; if I could
Do it all again, I'd bust your whole chin
Where brooklyn at? where brooklyn at? (right here, here)
A-ight? new in the house...

The versus gestapo, what what
Yo, there'll be no sequel to revolution
There will be no sequel to this
The people versus
There'll be no sequel to this revolution, what