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

I'm on a
I hold the pen and twisted
The competition my street cats stay listening (word up)
to New York I still walk the walk
Control dancehall, chillin in my stance y'all
was known to be an emcee
I still rip and flip into a frenzy
facts shit, and it's like herbs to bite
Bum rushing mic tec playing at night
with the mic take flight above shores (word of mouth)
I separate mines from
I ya up and as I stare in your face
big mind's on a hum hum
The one you got your from
Yeah I'm 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 Slum Vill

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

It's like the first related verse and now we with the beat
Just causality for S and the V
It's like is what we give and receive
Best do we got some shit up our sleeves
Shit to to, some shit to the trees
Some shit if you dyin' and they you breathe
Make a handicap nigga exceed with
It's like totally Toronto to V
Doin this for DET in the to be
Can't the rest R,O,I, and T
Mac baby, what else could it be?
Please, lace me with a for the beat

In the beginning, it was the S, no name shit
Motherfuckers for miles to Mac Nick
We rhymes we know they never sound like yours
To the mic lookin' cheap thoughts
Fuck this rap shit, I'm too for that
I do this shit for with 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 never fight I call an of war
Slice an emcee with my palm, a lyrical
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 is love at the less, new bomb shit
Mac Nicholas is money on some burner shit

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