Luyện nghe bài hát Politics - C-lo

[Chorus: Cee-Lo, the 5'9"]
me a mountain. Give me a sea
Put your mind on wonderland, be 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 years and countin, been accounting
For rap problems
accountant countin his rap dollars
The ice watch on the of the white collar
Leanin like the towser, he's in power
Standing on top of the bottom
You should pack up now that the dirty glove is me
your hat off inside of the mitten when you spittin
'Cause you can get it for
Your rap clapped up out you
If I don't get you up
Got you in a morgue sittin in the drawer
Niggaz I can't be caught, I can't be
They call me the anti-core,
Anti, when it comes to gettin the of hugs
That come a fake thug
show me a sign of love
Who am I to judge but you not out of love
Walk up if I was up like a Tsunami flood
I ain't to bug
But that's why you got to
on..

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

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

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

[Royce and
me a mountain. (Dream my nigga). Give me a sea
(All my niggaz dealin the politics). Put your mind on wonderland
(I you my nigga). Be what you want to be. (Dream my nigga)

It's politics my nigga. 8X]