Luyện nghe bài hát Orange Pineapple Juice

Hand me a little bit of umm, orange juice
sip on it, check it out

I got a rhyme, you got a
But my is better than yours
I got a rhyme, you got a
But my rhyme is better yours

U-A-C, they get P's and
No I.D., be his P's and
The Late Show, they get 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 like Ronald
Mac Donald Goines, flows I change like coins
Choyoyoyyoyoyyng, choyoyoyyyyng,
I draw a like blood with the 'pint of' technique
And everybody be like, "YEAH!"
cain't near a nig dat'll say 'Whoomp, There It Is'
I'm like a mom on section 8, kids
Shit they be like, "Com-mon!" That's my (true)
Youse a hamburger, I'mma
Askin me to let us catch up, you can't cut the mustard
So where's the beef,
I'm as Worthy as James, not that good names
But I do remember your face from this is one taste
Of Chicago, we got mo' many mo' many mo' mo' flavors
Don't come to me, go ask thy neighbor-I'm-a-hood takin niggas under
On the tundra, "they're plain, they're plain"
I'm on a that is fat so
just 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
Dart this 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 East coast, you rock on and
The West coast, you gotta on and
Ah down South, you rock on and
it "Now you can go!"

Mister Pussy Emcee, just get on
Get on gone, you MC!
Steppin to me, them dirty feets you'll get defeated
Kunta Kinte, I'm kin to the Lynn crew
My great, great, done been through
So much in my hemoglobin to be a ill nigga
So I figure like a father... that I'mma Turn This Out
But you ain't hittin in New York
I don't what you thought hops, but chief I got tall props
Some cats think I'm six I'm so deep
Some stunts be thinkin I'm six-fo', my be hittin like switches
Bitches, ask, why my, britches, sag
I ask the bitches, "Why your saggin?"
Put your nipple to the bottle I bust like breastses
I can get down, like pessimist
"Ring the Alarm", I got Charm a neck-a-lace
Tell the truth, tell the truth, y'all had to move your to this
you, didn't you and it, and it, and it
And it don't stop, it