Luyện nghe bài hát Nun Ah Y'all Can Hang

None of can hang
None of y'all can hang

1]
Hype! You better pipe down, or a fight's
I know you can tear the mic - huh, sike, clown
Say I'm like Christmas cause I twist this
and hiss this, I'm pissed, come and kiss this
Butt of mine, you ain't but a muthafucka
tail, one tail, dum tail, try to run, snail
Untangle your dreadlock, I deadlock
I'ma rock and hope your ears get the point Mr. Spock
Them wack rappers whippersnappers think I'm new to this
I been true to this, give me somethin to chew to
Like bubble gum bums think I can't hum to a slow drum
Don't I know where I come from, dumb-dumb, uhm -
I flow to rhythms of all sorts, sports
Give me some pants with hands, I ain't takin shorts
Tired of them tiny turds and nerds, words
I think I rock too quick, cause at my pace they ain't heard
But I one thang
None of can hang

of y'all can hang
None of can hang [repeated]

2]
My style I kick, 'You're too quick'
That's what I hear the vicks
I bet I don't flow as quick as you lick
Please, think I'm sweater than peas I flick em fleas
At ease, and even overseas they flip these
Scall, I break em like a fall, my stops em all
I put em in headlocks, and all
I'ma scuff vicks with ruff tricks
kicks, put em at the end like a suffix
You better and get smart
I'ma flow and kill em and let the angels play the harp
I'm sharp, Tung, I be like bicycles, I slice pickles
Should I say cucumbers, newcomers, I flip em like
And dimes, cause nickel-and-dime rhymes I find from minds
This they all wanna diss mine
Why Because I let the funky fly like this
Come get the lyrical manifest that'll be flowin, and I
Rock, they still diss a pro because of my quicker flow
You suckers get played a piccolo
And I let you one thang
None of y'all can

None of y'all can
None of y'all can hang

3]
Check, hope you're ready, singers, for steady
And humdingers, bum slingers cut Freddy's fingers
Slice, nice, twice: he sliced ice and sliced mics spice
So precise, sacrifice, take my advice
Jihad is on the twelves turnin giants to
Puttin twelves on the shelves, em hate themselves
like his, you lack that
Records were tossed, and then he crossed the fader a black cat
Holdin the beat a hostage
Think it's a joke Try to poke, then suckers get smoked like a
DJ be stickin cats
Turnin em ducks' cuts into chicken scratch
...get the
Suckers' hearts are ripped
For to get with the god Jihad
Punk, that smart
Yo, ain't it a shame
of y'all can hang

None of can hang
None of y'all can [repeated]

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(Get busy)
(Get busier)