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

I'm on a
I the pen and stay twisted
The competition my cats will stay listening (word up)
to New York I still walk the walk
Control dancehall, in my b-boy stance y'all
was known to be an emcee
I still rip and flip into a frenzy
Reciting shit, and it's like herbs to bite
Bum rushing mic tec slowly at night
with the mic take flight above shores (word of mouth)
I separate mines yours
I look ya up and as I stare in your
Your big on a hum hum
The one you got your from
Yeah I'm right son, straight out the slum
tracks for dough, gettin paid to do shows
So when I (what) the niggas respect my flow
Ay yo I'm nice with the pill and I rock with Slum

Ay yo, you want flows? We got of them
Pete, Slum and Tim trying to bank shit like the
Get money and dip
Flash the in front of them
Niggas 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 for the some dumb
Bubble yum chewin that don't know what they doin' with this rap
Rap tactics automatic and the fact is y'all know you bored the wack shit
We got that phat that auto and
Track shit and when you hear it man I don't know how to act,

It's like the first related verse and now we with the beat
Just another for S and the V
It's like action is what we and receive
Best do we got some shit up our sleeves
Shit to to, some shit to the trees
shit if you dyin' and they help you breathe
Make a nigga exceed with speed
It's totally 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 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 rhymes we know never sound like yours
To the mic like cheap thoughts
Fuck rap shit, I'm too smart for that
I do this shit for with my crew, believe that
The S is on the way to emcees quick
I shoot the rhymes to make the emcees duck
On the mic I fight I call an angel of war
Slice an emcee with my palm, a lyrical
You really a bottle? You must be ill

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

What, Vill and we out
No for 98
Settin ya
Getcha laced