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

I'm on a
I hold the pen and stay
The my street cats will stay listening (word up)
Detroit to New York I still the walk
Control dancehall, chillin in my b-boy y'all
Never was to be an emcee
I still rip and flip crowds into a
Reciting facts shit, and it's like to bite
Bum mic tec playing slowly at night
Coincide with the mic flight above shores (word of mouth)
I separate from yours
I look ya up and as I in your face
big mind's on a hum hum
The one you got idea from
I'm right here son, straight out the slum
Makin tracks for dough, gettin paid to do
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 tons of
Pete, Slum and Tim trying to shit like the Huntington
Get money and dip
Flash the in front of them
Niggas and shit
Sayin' nothin I'm done with
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' this rap shit
Rap tactics automatic and the fact is y'all know you bored with the shit
We got that phat that auto and
Track shit and 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 another for S and the V
It's action is what we give and receive
do believe we got some shit up our sleeves
Shit to dance to, shit to the trees
Some if you dyin' and they help you breathe
Make a handicap nigga exceed with
It's like totally with to V
Doin this for DET in the to be
forget the rest R,O,I, and T
Mac Nicholas baby, else could it be?
Please, me with a scratch for the beat

In the beginning, it was the S, never no shit
traveled for miles to Mac Nick
We kick rhymes we know they never sound yours
To the mic lookin' cheap thoughts
this 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 makin' emcees
I shoot the kinda rhymes to make the duck
On the mic I never I call an angel of war
Slice an emcee my palm, a lyrical sword
You really want a bottle? You be ill

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

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