Luyện nghe bài hát Once Upon a Time [Original Mix]

I'm on a
I hold the pen and stay
The competition my street cats will listening (word up)
to New York I still walk the walk
Control dancehall, chillin in my b-boy y'all
Never was known to be an
I still rip and flip into a frenzy
Reciting facts shit, and like herbs to bite
Bum rushing mic tec slowly at night
Coincide with the mic flight above shores (word of mouth)
I separate mines yours
I look ya up and as I in your face
Your big on a hum hum
The one you got your idea
Yeah I'm here son, straight out the slum
Makin tracks for dough, paid to do shows
So when I (what) the niggas respect my flow
Ay yo I'm nice the pill and I rock with Slum Vill

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

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

In the beginning, it was the S, never no shit
traveled for miles to Mac Nick
We rhymes we know they never sound like yours
To the mic lookin' like cheap
Fuck this rap shit, I'm too smart for
I do this shit for with my crew, believe that
The S is on the way to makin' emcees
I shoot the kinda rhymes to make the emcees
On the mic I never fight I call an of war
Slice an with my palm, a lyrical sword
You really want a You must be ill

Well the S, numero uno, I'm in your favorite
The make the music that you run out to get
Now this is love at the less, new shit
Mac Nicholas is money on some burner shit

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