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 than yours

U-A-C, get they 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 rhyme sick and you can get the duck,
I'm the shit, you're out of luck, tough
I'm the act to follow, housing like Ronald
Mac like Donald Goines, flows I change coins
Choyoyoyyoyoyyng, choyoyoyyyyng,
I draw a crowd like blood the 'pint of' technique
And there 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)
a hamburger, I'mma Fuddrucker
Askin me to let us catch up, knowin you cut the mustard
So the beef, jerky?
I'm as Worthy as James, not that good with
But I do remember your from someplace this is one taste
Of Chicago, we got mo' many mo' many mo' mo' flavors
Don't just come to me, go ask thy neighbor-I'm-a-hood niggas under
On the tundra, cause "they're plain, plain"
I'm on a that is fat so
It's just a fan-tasy, for the to see
How I land, I'm grand like a
I'm goin back to Cali (why?) cause got bitches check it
Aiyyo Dart this is a

Dee-da-da-da-doo-doo, dee-da-da,
Dee-da-da-da-DOO-doo, dee-da-da,
Side, rock on and
The West Side, we gotta on and
Hey yo Chicago, we gotta on and
The coast, you gotta rock on and
The West coast, you gotta on and
Ah down South, you rock on and
it "Now you can go!"

Mister Emcee, just get on gone
Get on gone, you MC!
Steppin to me, with dirty feets you'll get defeated
Kunta Kinte, I'm kin to the Lynn crew
My great, great, grandpap been through
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 ain't hittin in New
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 be hittin like switches
Bitches, ask, why my, britches, sag
I ask the bitches, "Why titties saggin?"
Put your nipple to the bottle I bust rhymes breastses
I can get down, d-d-d-down like
"Ring the Alarm", I got Charm like a
Tell the truth, the truth, y'all had to move your neck to this
Didn't you, you and it, and it, and it
And it don't stop, it