Luyện nghe bài hát Reason For Rhyme

Verse 1, MJG,

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

Remember back when we to do this shit 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 next beat
No electronics to make the shit that I wrote the
Shit sick enough to bring vomit your stomach
Quick as a comet, shield your eyes the UV
Groovey, like a nigga from a movie
about the shit that I express over dope beats
You can't say it was fake unless you up on my street
Concrete niggaz, runnin from FED niggaz,
Po' ass scared niggaz, that out dead niggaz
And all I ever to be was an emcee
Did a dirt and found it wasn't for me
Poetry flowin my bloodstream like a drug
I'm addicted to because I love the buzz, nigga

Chorus, 2X:

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

2, MJG:

My reason for rhymin, while I'm in, a position to be
It's not the fame and them bitches who be yellin
At my concerts, one verse, up, quick fuck
start spreadin now you tangled in a mix up
I gits up, do up, and squeeze my mental mindrame back in order
And use my hand as a tape
Jottin down all the placed in front of me
The good time, the bad time, the way I think it be
Now follow G, can you
If you can then a shot of Hen
Hit this on your silver end
Friends don't be and foes don't be foes
However the way you bring it, how you want it, I suppose
I can stay up out the keep my aim on my paper
And I'll be sure to keep my pimpin real with Draper
And I'll the man that I'm known to be
Dim the (Hip-tie) for the MJG

Chorus, 2X

Verse 3,

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

Chorus, 2X

End shoutouts