Luyện nghe bài hát No Gimmicks

[ ]
finesse and blastmaster krs-one
Lyrical styles a ton
finesse, we know you got skills
Come into the cypher and
out, all mc I kill
Come

[ 1: lord finesse ]
Check it out, come on, here's chance to swing
With some ill muthafuckas, we don't and sing
In '95 we
Servin 'poetic justice' without that nigga singleton
I do my thing while the be jealin
Hey yo, I'm so dope, you better tap man and tell him
I don't fake moves, I scrape crews, I brothers break fool
Just give me a with a bass groove
I'm mad funky, ask the
Cause I make you bob your until your muthafuckin neck hurt
So ask me to match, gee
Cause if you ain't real, I'm bringin it to your like acne
Now run scams and flim-flams
On how they be loose when they rusty like a tin man
They rap fast, to stack cash
But on the reel to reel, yo, they soundin half-assed
and screamin like they got somethin
When they don't got nothin, so them niggas need to frontin
Talkin how they be raggin
When I know if them niggas are rappin or talkin muthafuckin arabic
They act so ill, no frills
They should go chill, they all with no skills
I'm around y'all feel funny
Cause I'm young funds like shaquille o'neal, money
You want any you better wear plenty armor
I cut that ass like the chef at benny
The funky in it to win it
We gotta keep it real yo, no gimmicks

Whoever make a hit they the (that's a gimmick)
You sell records based on how you (that's a gimmick)
Hey yo, that tongue-twistin shit, that's kinda (that's a gimmick)
What's when you're soft but you're frontin like you're (that's a gimmick)
What's when you're into rap to get paid? (that's a gimmick)
when you're yellin and screamin up on stage? (that's a gimmick)
When your is numbered by days? (that's a gimmick)
What's when your style is just a faze? (that's a gimmick)

[ verse 2: ]
I guess yes y'all, to the y'all, bring in the street
Let me put my beeper on 'vibrate', so hear it beep
the street, concrete what I speak, yeah, I live it
Let it be known, krs is not about a
I grab the mic and rip it, they stallin
I raise the mic stand, I'm tall and I keep the crowd callin
I'm not like those other rappers talkin about the caps they
Punk, I battle for real
Fuck a record deal when you're still into
With your country ass, sound like you're still cotton
You get thrown across the room in that direction,
The lyrical not the one you should be checkin
This is my eara, or era or eera, whatever, I'm mad
I shoop, you doop, you doop like
Lyrical terror, you should never come for mine
When I rhyme I clean up with the fresh smell of pine
I got skills, and it
You could slow or speed up the tempo, your style is fake like jackson's nose
I'm sellin that real live shit, and you could get
You're sellin that fake shit like the shopping network
You got a rhymes to battle in a second
But frankly the bottom is: where's your hit record?
You claim I'm jockin, you claim I'm on your dick, where's your
If I'm on your dick, my has got to be syphilis
I with lyrical physical fitness
Two months now you will have bit this
Watch me light ass up like christmas
let me come out on that ass
Start flippin the I be kickin
Be hotter than chicken
So whether from the or from the west
There's no krs
I got
I came to town to set it off
So when finesse goes it'
I'll mimick
Krs-one never use a gimmick

When you're ridin the next dick (that's a gimmick)
When you're r&b, and then you cold (that's a gimmick)
Start hardcore just to get a hit (that's a gimmick)
When yout get over, but skills ain't shit (that's a gimmick)
When you rap, but you have soul (that's a gimmick)
you cross over just to go gold (that's a gimmick)
When not a gangster, but portrayin a role (that's a gimmick)
What's you shape in somebody else's mould? (that's a gimmick)

[ 3: lord finesse ]
Man station, cause the clan you're facin
Is steppin to you trash like sanitatian
I shoot and throw rhymes, the whole nine when showtime
(what up, kid? ) brothers know I can mine
On the real I got skills
the time's ill I'm blowin up spots like a minefield
Brothers with they chest out
But words from finesse's mouth'll leave them niggas out
They make me to my stomach
(so put it on em, kid!) muthafuckas don't want it
can't see me, believe me
They all phoneys, them niggas that be wrestlin on tv
Yo, they're nowhere pro
And niggas couldn't hang if was muthafuckin scarecrows
Nowadays a lotta rappers sound
Talkin that gangster shit, they're softer than a poundcake
So why you're with the burner, kid
When you done took more ass-whippins than fuckin turner did
You front? so be it
But fuck beatin the bush, I just speak how I see it
Me off? that shit's dead
not happenin, kid, so get that shit through your thick head
I'll never (what? ) you head right
I'll never cross over (aight!) life
So when I said it, peep the
If I go gold but get credit, I won't sweat it
In '95 we all in it
We gotta keep it real, yo, no muthafuckin

when you rap and don't appreciate the art? (that's a gimmick)
What's when you sell out just to get a (that's a gimmick)
What's when you make just for the charts? (that's a gimmick)
What's when you rap, but it's not from the (that's a gimmick)
What's when you're hardcore, then you pop? (that's a gimmick)
When you steal ideas to get (that's a gimmick)
When you sell out to be on (that's a gimmick)
What's when you front like hard, but you're not? (that's a gimmick)

[ ]
Now let this be a to all mc's
And
Anyone that come the line will have to pay
hip hop is in effect
Real is in effect
hip-hop is in effect
Give it
We wreck