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

I'm on a
I the pen and stay twisted
The my street cats will stay listening (word up)
Detroit to New 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 it's herbs to bite
Bum mic tec playing slowly at night
Coincide with the mic take flight above (word of mouth)
I separate mines from
I ya up and as I stare in your face
Your big on a hum hum
The one you got your idea
I'm right here son, straight out the slum
Makin tracks for dough, paid to do shows
So I blow (what) the niggas respect my flow
Ay yo I'm with the pill and I rock with Slum Vill

Ay yo, you want flows? We got of them
Pete, Slum and Tim to bank shit like the Huntington
Get that and dip
Flash the cash in front of
Niggas and shit
Sayin' I'm done with them
Oh yo! Peeps ain't got a hold they gun on
Cause if one of them cats jump, we all in
that!
We got somethin' for the some
Bubble yum that don't know what they doin' with this rap shit
Rap tactics automatic and the fact is y'all know you with the wack shit
We got that phat shit auto and
shit and when you hear 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 shit up our sleeves
Shit to dance to, some to the trees
Some if you dyin' and they help you breathe
Make a handicap nigga exceed speed
It's like with Toronto to V
Doin for DET in the place to be
Can't the rest R,O,I, and T
Mac Nicholas baby, what could it be?
Please, me with a scratch for the beat

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

Well the S, numero uno, I'm in your favorite
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 some burner

What, Slum and we out
No for 98
ya straight
Getcha laced