Luyện nghe bài hát Reason For Rhyme

Verse 1, MJG,

I'm MJG, the nigga the versatile style
Check your realize that I been here for awhile
When I was young I took the up out of rhythm and blues
When hip hop originated slowly my dues
And take my shoes, and try to walk a in my past
Without them salt shaker sheisters to get in that ass
It's been too long, you motherfuckers to feel the south
Shut your mouth, shut your do you freak ass hoe
I'm bout of all this damn east and west coast shit
when other niggaz tryin to work in this bitch
I paid my dues to the fullest, worked to god hard
For you too kill the and leave me out of a job
You niggaz yourself, to maintain yourself
And now you with enough rope to actually hang yourself
But you care, hell, you constantly fallin deep in the plot
Mesmerized from all the bitches and the you got
You must of forgot they said that rap would never last ten
And if your selfish to the fact, I'm tryin to have a
Now here, what do we have, we got probable cause
To the pen on the paper and the glock in your drawers, nigga

Remember back when we used to do shit for fun
Bein the dopest on my block made me ranked one
No gun, just a pen and notebook paper by the
In the crib, gettin funky off the nigga beat
No electronics to make the shit that I the chronic
Shit sick to bring vomit from your stomach
Quick as a comet, your eyes from the UV
Groovey, like a from a Batman movie
Real about the shit that I express over beats
You can't say it was fake unless you grew up on my
Concrete head niggaz, runnin FED niggaz,
Po' ass scared niggaz, that out dead niggaz
And all I wanted to be was an emcee
Did a little dirt and found it for me
Poetry flowin through my like a drug
I'm to rhyme because I love the buzz, nigga

Chorus, 2X:

My for rhyme
Because I'm to this rap
My for rhyme
Because I'm real with rap
My for rhyme
It all about the cheese
though fat lp's can make a nigga g's

Verse 2,

My reason for rhymin, while I'm in, a to be tellin
It's not about the fame and them who be yellin
At my concerts, one verse, dicks up, quick
Lies spreadin now you tangled in a mix up
I gits up, do sits up, and squeeze my mental mindrame back in
And use my hand as a recorder
Jottin down all the information placed in of me
The time, the bad time, the way I think it oughta be
Now follow G, can you
If you can then a shot of Hen
Hit hand on your silver end
don't be friends and foes don't be foes
However the way you it, that's how you want it, I suppose
I can stay up out the game keep my aim on my
And I'll be sure to keep my pimpin real Tony Draper
And I'll the man that I'm known to be
Dim the (Hip-tie) for the MJG

Chorus, 2X

3, Eightball:

Give me a crowd of wild who love real hip hop
And watched smoke get up, like water in a mop
presidents among me and my own folk
And let bullshit walk among the past with ghosts
Ain't no hope of bein seriously
When limited are given to me
So, naturally I take shit and make mine
Jackin only for position in this thing rhyme
Freestyle, not great, but if you wait for a
I could write some shit down that could get a record
Thought about not the first thing that I think
MJG and and hard is how we comin out
Runnin out, who can't hold on like En Vogue
Even though I moved out the mound I'm still ten
Down for the shit I do, the Suave crew
True to this shit, because this is so true

Chorus, 2X

End with