Luyện nghe bài hát One Time 4 Your Mind

Yeah, illmatic, (yeah.)
illmatic, (yeah!)
illmatic, huh.
(Yeah, kick shit.)

(One time for mind, one time.)
Yeah, whatever.
(One for your mind, one time.)
Yo, whatever.
(One for your mind, one time.)
(Hey yo, Nas. (Whattup, Paul?) Kick fuckin' rhyme.)

it out.
When I'm chilling, I grab the Buddha, get my to buy beers,
And a flick, illin and root for the villain, huh.
Plus, every morning, I go out and it, sort of chilly,
Then I send a shorty my block to the store for phillies.
After being blessed by the herb's
I'm back to my rest, ten minutes, odd seconds.
That's I got the honey at, spends the night for sexing,
lubrication, lifestyle protection.
Picking up my remote control, quickly;
Ron G's in the deck, rockin' the shit, G.
I try to stay mellow, rock, well, acapella
me richer than a slipper made Cinderella, fella.
Go get your crew, Hobbes, I'm to bomb troops.
Got niggaz who's born, I my way out my mom dukes.
When I was ten, I was a shorty wop,
Known for rocking microphones and twisting off a top, yeah.

Nas (LP)]
(One for your mind, one time.)
Yeah, whatever.
(One time for mind, one time.)
It clever.
(Hey, yo, Nas, fuck that, man, that was fat)
(But kick that for gangstas, man, fuck all that)

Right, right, up niggaz, how y'all? It's Nasty, the villain.
I'm still writin' rhymes, but that I'm chillin'.
I'm trying to get this money, God, you the hard times, kid.
Shit, cold be starvin', you want to do crimes, kid.
But I'm a lamp, a crime couldn't beat a rhyme.
Niggas catching three to nines, yelling free the mind,
And I'm from Queensbridge, been to places.
As a kid, when I would say that out of town, niggas us,
But now I the time, got a older mind.
Plus control a nine, fine, see, now I mine.
I'm new on the rap scene, never heard of me,
Yet I'm a meance, yo, police want to me.
Heine(ken,) drinker, represent the thinker.
My pen rides the paper, it has blinkers.
Think I'll dim the lights inhale, it stimulates.
Floating like I'm on the ninety-five interstate.
Never to stop, when I write my hand is hot,
And a lot from the wiz' to Camelot.
The parlayer, I'll ya heads bop, Pah.
I shine a on perpetrators, like a cop's car.
day to night, I play the mic, and you'll thank God.
I wreck so much, the microphone need a paint job.
My is incarcerated.
Live at any jam, I couldn't count all the I raided.
I hold a Mac-11, and the Reverand.
I eleven L's, and max in heaven.

Yo, one for your mind, one time.

It clever.

But one for your mind, one time.

Yeah, whatever.

One for your mind, one time.

Yo, ninety-two to ninety-nine.

Yeah, that was greasy, fat Paul, know what I'm saying?
But check it, you gotta another for me?
I want you to it, you know what I'm saying?
Kick that from the projects