Luyện nghe bài hát Once Upon a Time

I'm on a
I the pen and stay twisted
The competition my street cats will stay (word up)
Detroit to New I still walk the walk
Control dancehall, chillin in my b-boy y'all
was known to be an emcee
I still rip and flip crowds a frenzy
Reciting facts shit, and it's like herbs to
Bum rushing mic tec playing slowly at
Coincide the mic take flight above shores (word of mouth)
I separate mines from
I look ya up and as I stare in your
big mind's on a hum hum
The one you got your from
Yeah I'm here son, straight out the slum
Makin tracks for dough, paid to do shows
So when I blow (what) the niggas my flow
Ay yo I'm nice with the pill and I rock with Vill

Ay yo, you flows? We got tons of them
Pete, Slum and Tim trying to bank shit the Huntington
Get that and dip
the cash in front of them
Niggas gruntin' and
Sayin' nothin I'm with them
Oh yo! Peeps got a hold they gun on them
if one of them cats jump, we all jumpin' in
that!
We got for the some dumb
Bubble yum chewin that don't know what they doin' this rap shit
Rap automatic and the fact is y'all know you bored with the wack shit
We got that phat shit that and
Track shit and you hear it man I don't know how to act, shit

It's like the related verse and now we rock with the beat
Just another for S and the V
It's like action is what we and receive
Best do believe we got some up our sleeves
to dance to, some shit to the trees
Some shit if you dyin' and help you breathe
Make a handicap nigga exceed speed
It's like totally Toronto to V
Doin for DET in the place to be
Can't the rest R,O,I, and T
Mac Nicholas baby, else could it be?
Please, lace me with a scratch for the

In the beginning, it was the S, never no shit
Motherfuckers traveled for miles to Mac
We kick we know they never sound like yours
To the mic lookin' like thoughts
Fuck this rap shit, I'm too for that
I do this shit for with my crew, believe that
The S is on the way to emcees quick
I shoot the kinda rhymes to make the duck
On the mic I never I call an angel of war
Slice an emcee with my palm, a sword
You want a bottle? You must be ill

it's the S, numero uno, I'm in your favorite
The negroes make the that you run out to get
Now is love at the less, new bomb shit
Mac is earnin' money on some burner shit

What, Vill and we out
No for 98
ya straight
Getcha self