Luyện nghe bài hát Once Upon a Time [Pete Rock Remix]

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

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

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

In the beginning, it was the S, never no name
traveled for miles to Mac Nick
We rhymes we know they never sound like yours
To the mic lookin' like thoughts
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' quick
I the kinda rhymes to make the emcees duck
On the mic I never I call an angel of war
Slice an emcee with my palm, a lyrical
You really a bottle? You must be ill

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

What, Vill and we out
No for 98
ya straight
Getcha self