Luyện nghe bài hát Orange Pineapple Juice

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Bắt đầu làm bài nào

Hand me a little bit of umm, orange juice
I'mma sip on it, it out

I got a rhyme, you got a
But my rhyme is better 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, get they P's and
ProfessaNots, they get P's and

the maneuver, how bout 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 like
Mac like Donald Goines, I change like coins
Choyoyoyyoyoyyng, choyoyoyyyyng,
I draw a like blood with the 'pint of' technique
And there be like, "YEAH!"
Cause cain't near a nig say 'Whoomp, There It Is'
I'm like a mom on section 8, over-bearing
Shit they be like, "Com-mon!" my muhfucka (true)
Youse a hamburger, I'mma
Askin me to let us catch up, knowin you cut the mustard
So the beef, jerky?
I'm as Worthy as James, not good with names
But I do your face from someplace this is one taste
Of Chicago, we got mo' many mo' many mo' many mo'
just come to me, go ask thy neighbor-I'm-a-hood takin niggas under
On the tundra, cause "they're plain, plain"
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 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 coast, you gotta 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 feets you'll get
Kunta Kinte, I'm kin to the Lynn crew
My great, great, grandpap done been
So much it's in my to be a ill nigga
So I figure like a father... that I'mma Turn Mutha Out
But Common you hittin in New York
I don't know what you thought hops, but I got tall props
Some think I'm six feet I'm so deep
Some stunts be thinkin I'm six-fo', my shit be hittin switches
Bitches, ask, why my, britches, sag
I ask the bitches, "Why your saggin?"
Put your nipple to the bottle I rhymes like breastses
I can get down, d-d-d-down like
"Ring the Alarm", I got Charm like a
the truth, tell the truth, y'all had to move your neck to this
Didn't you, you and it, and it, and it
And it stop, bust it