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 than
(repeat 2x)
U-a-c, they get p's and
No i.d., be his p's and
The show, they get they p's and
Professanots, they get p's and
Peep the maneuver, how the heim-lich
I sick and you can get the duck, coon
I'm the shit, you're out of luck, tough
I'm the act to follow, housing kids ronald
Mac donald goines, flows I change like coins
Choyoyoyyoyoyyng, choyoyoyyyyng,
I a crowd like blood with the 'pint of' technique
And everybody be like, "yeah!"
Cause cain't a nig dat'll say 'whoomp, there it is'
I'm like a mom on section 8, over-bearing
Shit they be like, "com-mon!" that's my muhfucka
Youse a hamburger, i'ma
Askin me to lettuce ketchup, knowin you can't cut the
So where's the beef,
I'm as worthy as james, not that good with
But I do remember your face from someplace is one taste
Of chicago, we got mo' many mo' 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 like a finale
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 side, we gotta rock on and
Hey yo chicago, we rock on and
The coast, you gotta rock on and
The west coast, you rock on and
Ah down south, you gotta on and
it... "now you can go!"
Mister pussy emcee, just get on
Get on gone, you mc!
Steppin to me, with them dirty you'll get defeated
Like kunta kinte, I'm kin to, crew
My great, great, grandpap been through
So it's in my hemoglobin to be a ill nigga
So I figure like a father... that i'ma turn mutha out
But you ain't hittin in new york
I don't know what you thought hops, but I got tall props
cats think I'm six feet I'm so deep
Some stunts be thinkin I'm six-fo', my shit be like switches
Bitches, ask, why my, britches, sag
I ask the bitches, "why your titties "
Put your nipple to the bottle I bust rhymes breastses
I can get down, like pessimist
the alarm, I got charm like a neck-a-lace
Tell me true statues had to move neck to this
you, didn't you... and it, and it, and it
And it don't stop, it
"gotta crew ya better tell em" --> murray