Luyện nghe bài hát Once Upon a Time

I'm on a
I the pen and stay twisted
The competition my street cats will listening (word up)
Detroit to New York I still the walk
Control dancehall, in my b-boy stance y'all
Never was to be an emcee
I still rip and crowds into a frenzy
Reciting facts shit, and it's herbs to bite
Bum mic tec playing slowly at night
with the mic take flight above shores (word of mouth)
I mines from yours
I ya up and as I stare in your face
Your big on a hum hum
The one you got your from
Yeah I'm right here son, straight out the
Makin tracks for dough, gettin paid to do
So when I blow (what) the niggas my flow
Ay yo I'm nice with the and I rock with Slum Vill

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

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

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

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

What, Slum and we out
No for 98
Settin ya
Getcha self