Luyện nghe bài hát Orange Pineapple Juice

Hand me a little bit of umm, pineapple juice
I'ma sip on it, it out
I got a rhyme, you got a
But my rhyme is better yours
(repeat 2x)
U-a-c, they get p's and
No i.d., be his p's and
The late show, get they p's and
Professanots, they get p's and
Peep the maneuver, how the heim-lich
I rhyme and you can get the duck, coon
I'm the shit, you're shit out of luck,
I'm the act to follow, kids like ronald
Mac like donald goines, flows I change like
Choyoyoyyoyoyyng, choyoyoyyyyng,
I draw a crowd like blood with the of' technique
And everybody be like, "yeah!"
Cause cain't a nig dat'll say 'whoomp, there it is'
I'm a mom on section 8, over-bearing kids
Shit they be like, "com-mon!" that's my true
a hamburger, i'ma fudrucker
Askin me to ketchup, knowin you can't cut the mustard
So the beef, jerky?
I'm as worthy as james, not that with names
But I do remember your face from someplace this is one
Of chicago, we got mo' mo' many mo' many mo' flavors
Don't just to me, go ask thy neighbor-i'm-a-hood takin niggaz

On the tundra, "they're plain, they're plain" (fantasy island)
I'm on a plateau is fat so
It's a fan-tasy, for the fans to see
How I land, I'm grand like a
I'm goin back to (why? ) cause cali got bitches check it
Aiyyo dart is a sickness
Dee-da-da-da-doo-doo, dee-da-da,
Dee-da-da-da-doo-doo, dee-da-da,
South side, on and
The west side, we rock on and
Hey yo chicago, we gotta on and
The east coast, you rock on and
The west coast, you gotta on and
Ah south, you gotta rock on and
it... "now you can go!"
Mister emcee, just get on gone
Get on gone, you mc!
Steppin to me, them dirty feet you'll get defeated
kunta kinte, I'm kin to, align crew
My great, great, grandpap been through
So much it's in my hemoglobin to be a ill
So I figure like a father... that turn this mutha out
But common you hittin in new york
I don't what you thought hops, but chief I got tall props
Some think I'm six feet I'm so deep
Some stunts be I'm six-fo', my shit be hittin like switches
Bitches, ask, why my, britches, sag
I ask the bitches, "why your titties "
Put nipple to the bottle I bust rhymes like breastses
I can get down, like pessimist
the alarm, I got charm like a neck-a-lace
Tell me true had to move they neck to this
Didn't you, you... and it, and it, and it
And it stop, bust it
"gotta crew ya tell em" --> keith murray