Luyện nghe bài hát Politics

[Chorus: Cee-Lo, the 5'9"]
me a mountain. Give me a sea
Put your on wonderland, be what you want to be. Wooow
Politics. Ha my nigga
Politics. Ha my
Politics. Ha my
Politics. Ha my
Politics. Ha my
Politics. Ha my
Politics. Ha my
Politics. Ha my

Da 5'9"]
Seven and countin, I've been accounting
For rap problems
'Cause countin his rap dollars
The ice watch on the sleeve of the collar
like the Pisa towser, he's in power
Standing on top of the bottom
You should pack up now the dirty glove is with me
your hat off inside of the mitten when you spittin
'Cause you can get it for
Your whole rap up out you
If I don't get you up
Got you in a sittin stiff in the drawer
Niggaz I can't be caught, I can't be
call me the anti-core, anti-talk
Anti, when it to gettin the kind of hugs
come from a fake thug
That show me a sign of
Who am I to but you would not out of love
Walk up if I was washed up like a Tsunami
I trying to bug
But that's why you got to
on..

Da 5'9"]
Excuse me while I school on how to pay these dues
Tell whoever jealous and want to me, cool
The whole got the old bland of Mercedes blues
Everybody fill Jay-Z shoes
I call it the sniffs, the Phantom flu
'Cause sick, what already exists, can't be you
I told y'all niggaz in that I can't be touched
Yo bitch me sugar dick with the candy nuts
But ain't shit sweet, get it twisted
beat yo ass, I don't need wine, I don't need cash
I'll stick a sock in any mouth in any market
If he talkin, he a target, in his apartment
While he drinkin, spark him 'til he leakin, coughin Martin
'Cause if I flip my lid, you'd have to him in the garbage
Is nothin to you out, fuck is you frontin about
We cuttin you in, I'm you out

Da 5'9"]
Royce five nine is a prophet, in sense of the word
Superb finisher, administer like ministers
The tales of the low sales of a poet
Centuries up in the pen that he holds up
He it to holy grail, when he saw the soul
he was since told his flows, the Davinci code
Since chosen, he harder
But everytime he spot a rival inside
His bible like, Gregory Heins with the of Harlem
Po-po's harder, free-on, we so cold
Red like beam be on sight, we got weed neon
We got a one yay, Celine white, green
Your last breath, you about five away from death
you the leon type, so muahh
Make you rest in
No more records sold, less is me
nine, unsigned

[Spoken Word -
Yeahh, Royce Da 5'9", my Nottz
This is a M.I.C and with collaboration
Ladies and gentleman, I would like to introduce to you, Cee-Lo Green. go

and Cee-Lo]
Give me a mountain. (Dream my nigga). me a sea
(All my dealin with the politics). Put your mind on wonderland
(I smell you my nigga). Be what you to be. (Dream my nigga)

It's my nigga. [repeat 8X]