Luyện nghe bài hát Nonstop Disco Powerpack

Well how you feelin' Ad Rock? I'm feelin' well
Bonafide, qualified, with a story to
Well how you feelin' D? Well I feel all good
All day is how we play in the
Well how you feelin' MCA? Well I right
I speak my words on the track 'cause the track tight
So if you're good and you're feelin' right
Uh, somebody up and grab the mic

Well hello everybody and how you
It's Ad Rock rappin' on the microphone
I got grace, class, style, and debonaire
Murdalize 'cause I just don't care
The MC whisperer, kinda a trainer
I take rappers, I put 'em through a strainer
macaroni 'cause the shit sound cheesy
Watch how it's boy, it looks easy
The nonstop, off, kingpin, microphone boss
Do my own thing, you can't the cost
Of my rhyme style complete the turnstile
'Cause it's and direct, and I'm wicked and wild
Back on the roll, I got total
I flow like the out your toilet bowls
Your style is cheap boy, just a Dutch
You know you're not smokin' on the much
There's a certain special talent that I lack
Ha-ha! And that's a
'Cause we like the chrome on a Cadillac
You better break a wishbone 'cause we wack
Said never that, and that is that
And we're the nonstop powerpack
Uh, right, we go all night
Who gonna be next to bless the

Now is the way we run it down
We're gettin' you high on the sound
is the way we get it on
B-Boys in the 'til the break of dawn

See I mix my style up like a cement
and fix ya like a rhyme elixir
Hey yo yo soundman, Mike's mic louder
Don't make me sound cheap a box of douche powder
I'll max and relax, champagne,
Don't go commando, know bandito
Je Michel, Perignon
Me and Claude in the chateau, we got it on
Quincy's in the hot tub like '73
Lookin' over his shoulder and he's at me
I'm all white in the face, towel my waist
What's up with that watch inside the case?
I go to make my move, sneak out the
Undetected, not leavin' a
Party's done, wrecked
Wine's drunk, and head's been checked
I see one last profiterole, I my play
And the microphone to MCA

Nonstop, On the top, and you clock, then we
fakin', no mistakin', we be makin' hip hop
So c'mon get down

Now it's a spot check, hit the count down
'Cause I'ma break it down for ya how we run it
Pound for pound, the basslines round
See you watchin', clockin', jockin' my
But for real, I'm glad I grew up with hip hop
Still got mad love for a record called Bop
It a lot spinnin' on my Walkman
out to the Afrika Bam'
And to the S to the P the
The one MC, who you deny
I'd listen to the records and they'd
Sit down to write and the pen fire
Construct a with specific intent
Flowin' the braincells right through the pen
And then I put the down, grab ahold the mic
Words flowin' so cold, water to ice
Come the wire saturate the tape
You put me in the mix nice it up at the
And they press it on wax, sell it in the store
The DJ's the record out on the dancefloor
Comin' through the speakers to your eardrum
Braincells get lit, you hear where we're comin' from

Ad Rock, huh, get it on
We gonna the house until the break of dawn
Now D, huh, get it on
We rock the house until the break of dawn
And MCA, yeah, get it on
We gonna rock the house until the break of
Beastie in the house, don't stop