Luyện nghe bài hát Reason For Rhyme

Verse 1, MJG,

I'm MJG, the with the versatile style
Check your calendar that I been here for awhile
When I was young I took the soul up out of and blues
When hip hop originated slowly paid my
And my shoes, and try to walk a mile in my past
Without them salt sheisters tryin to get in that ass
been too long, you motherfuckers fittin to feel the south
Shut your mouth, shut do you little freak ass hoe
I'm tired of all this damn east and west coast shit
Especially when other tryin to work in this bitch
I paid my dues to the fullest, to god damn hard
For you too kill the and leave me out of a job
You strain yourself, to maintain yourself
And now you with enough rope to actually hang yourself
But you don't care, hell, you constantly fallin deep in the
Mesmerized from all the bitches and the you got
You must of forgot they said that rap would never last ten
And if selfish to the fact, I'm tryin to have a career
Now listen here, what do we have, we got cause
To keep the pen on the paper and the in your drawers, nigga

Remember back when we used to do this for fun
the dopest on my block made me ranked number one
No gun, just a pen and paper by the sheet
In the crib, gettin funky off the nigga beat
No electronics to make the shit that I the chronic
Shit sick enough to vomit from your stomach
as a comet, shield your eyes from the UV
Groovey, like a nigga a Batman movie
Real the shit that I express over dope beats
You can't say it was unless you grew up on my street
Concrete niggaz, runnin from FED niggaz,
Po' ass niggaz, that came out dead niggaz
And all I ever wanted to be was an
Did a little dirt and it wasn't for me
Poetry flowin my bloodstream like a drug
I'm addicted to rhyme because I the buzz, nigga

Chorus, 2X:

My for rhyme
Because I'm to this rap
My reason for
Because I'm real this rap
My for rhyme
It ain't all the cheese
Even though fat lp's can a nigga g's

2, MJG:

My reason for rhymin, while I'm in, a to be tellin
It's not about the and them bitches who be yellin
At my concerts, one verse, dicks up, quick
Lies start spreadin now you in a mix up
I gits up, do sits up, and squeeze my mental mindrame in order
And use my as a tape recorder
Jottin down all the information placed in of me
The good time, the bad time, the way I think it be
Now G, can you comprehend?
If you can then drink a of Hen
Hit hand on your silver end
Friends don't be and foes don't be foes
However the way you bring it, that's how you want it, I
I can up out the game keep my aim on my paper
And I'll be sure to keep my real with Tony Draper
And potray 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 niggaz who 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 takin
limited avenues are given to me
So, naturally I take and make shit mine
only for position in this thing called rhyme
Freestyle, not great, but if you for a second
I could write some shit down that get a gold record
Thought about not the thing that I think about
MJG and Eightball and is how we comin out
out, niggaz who can't hold on like En Vogue
Even though I moved out the mound I'm ten toed
Down for the shit I do, the House crew
True to this shit, because this is so true

Chorus, 2X

End shoutouts