Luyện nghe bài hát One

Yo, new Ghostface!
To glorious days, it out y'all
We back, yes yes
Masked avengers, we're here to your sword
All due to T.M.F., Wu-Tang Clan
on it, Ghost

A-yo, we at the weedgate, waiting for
We want eight ravioli bags, two thirsty villians yelling
Heavyweight rhyme writers, hitting the grass that's the
Pull out this kite this white bitch
Talking 'bout, "Dear Ghost, you the only I know
Like the cops come, you never hide your toast"
Guest starred in mad shit, CBL, Ice metallic
tense placed in gold caskets
Dru bitches, specialist lounging at the mosque
Suede kufi wrap, dentist
is made of garlic, never in the target when the NARCs hit
Rumor is you start to spit
You nice Lord, sweet daddy Grace, lifted
On the dancefloor, makeover's free by gauze
Duncan Hines monument cakes, we half-baked
Alaskan, sexcapade, push your new dates
Trauma, hands is candy canes, lay my balls on ice
The branches in my weed be the
Swimsuit issue, sent truly from the heart, boo, I miss you
See daddy a wristful
slave God, graveyard spells, fog your goggles
Laying like needles in the
Five to conquer, ask Bernadette, big ass whistle
your ear, hear thistle

To my real bitches take your off
To all my high niggas, snatch her off
in case she wanna play, get up in that bitch face
And tell her Ghost said, "Take your off!"

A-yo, the Devil planted fear the black babies
Fifty cent sodas in the hood, going crazy
Dead placed on the shelves, we eat cold cuts
Fast the hog y'all and grow up

A-yo, crash through, break the glass, Tony with the goalie
That's the pass, ice Roley laying on the dash
the grass, cauliflower hurting when I dumped the trash
Sour mash served in every glass up at the Wally
Sunsplash, autograph blessing with name slashed
Backdraft, four-pounders with the pearly ash
Children fix the as the sound clashes
Mrs. Dash, sprinkle with her icicle
Ask Cappa for backstage passes
Special guest, no more Johnny Blaze, Johnny
Acrobat, run up on that Jones actress
the cat while I'm high sugar get a crack at this
Dicking Oprah, jumprope, David Dinkins
the black mayor of DC hit the mocha
Tangerine sofa, two super in the Rover
Hit the bar, tell a young lady to bend over
Meditated yoga, Paddle Ball, dancing the vulture
Troy laying for Travolta
Yo, switch the lingo,
God glow, seven fifteen four be

A-yo, the planted fear inside the black babies
cent sodas in the hood, they going crazy
Dead placed on the shelves, we eat cold cuts
Fast from the hog and grow up