Luyện nghe bài hát No Frills

[buddha
Get off my fuckin life!

chief of zu ninjaz]
Yo, yo, this zu shit!
Yo, ugh! I you want it, and I wanna give it. ah!

[chorus x2: chief of zu ninjaz]
I got this proposal i'ma slide the table
Mansions, cars, horses,
Stocks and bonds, cds and
This around, zu strictly frills!

[buddha
Yo, you act like the sun don't
I decline and make that ass dumb, deaf and blind
Watch this spittin logic, just at yo' noggen
Mind-bogglin, and right the zu will smash somethin
This verbal technique soon be heard on every street
Just watch yo' peeps and watch you niggaz don't sleep
We defy the laws of gravity and burn yo' anatomy
Watch us work this
Three-hundred and forty pounds, God will get down
With verbal smacks, bustin gats, jiggin nines in yo'
I don't that, my silver spoon was bent way back
to say that, but that's the way it is when you black
Not prejudice, but stay far away six
And I won't even if my balls gets bit
Stay reclined, never swine, twist the eighty-five
We can wine, to this station all one mind

x2]

[buddha
Warn this, awareness, I like a terrorist
Enter the bloodstream, beware, can you this?
Disasterous, it is i, the one and master
The buddha's weight is made gats and gun silencers
Powerful thoughts increase, as I
The knowledge on my brain, and it's like ten beasts
It is not the who, it's the old zu
Styles get raw like a zoo
Fix this, flows drillin in the
Buddha inflicts the like bake's existence
I remain to cause pain, words and slang
Yo, you fuck with the zu chain, ya headed for a
Walk my path, ya head is what I'm after
Save all those jokes and rhymes, no time for

x2]

monk]
I warnin this to mind delinquents, with rap flows I frequent
Ya cold niggaz and ya mind tolerance is low
I like brooklyn zu done sole, first nigga thrown out the
Damn, thrity-two degrees below zero and it like a cold war
There's never more gun totin, ha, tree smokin
The with tote nose, with love at first sight, eludin
Bit pressure tester, yea, zu mind
Close your mind like chester's so your gets light like feathers
Whatever, you zu disappear niggaz? ! ha, never!
I'm like a cold with head lice, yo, diggin in ya sector
I'm afraid for ya, we like the germ gonarhea
all you mamami's with no trace of pupmed water, see us
In God we shall trust, grafted skin we never
Flows like black dust, now think about God

sound*

(oh, a rush!)