Luyện nghe bài hát Reason For Rhyme

Verse 1, MJG,

I'm MJG, the nigga with the style
Check your realize that I been here for awhile
When I was young I took the up out of rhythm and blues
hip hop originated slowly paid my dues
And my shoes, and try to walk a mile in my past
Without them shaker sheisters tryin to get in that ass
It's been too long, you fittin to feel the south
Shut your mouth, shut your do you little ass hoe
I'm bout tired of all this damn east and west shit
Especially when other niggaz tryin to 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 playin 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 never last ten years
And if your to the fact, I'm tryin to have a career
Now listen here, what do we have, we got probable
To the pen on the paper and the glock in your drawers, nigga

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

Chorus, 2X:

My reason for
I'm true 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 fame and them bitches who be
At my concerts, one verse, dicks up, fuck
start spreadin now you tangled in a mix up
I gits up, do sits up, and squeeze my mindrame back in order
And use my hand as a tape
Jottin all the information placed in front of me
The time, the bad time, the way I think it oughta be
Now follow G, can you
If you can then drink a of Hen
Hit this hand on your end
don't be friends 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 Tony
And potray the man that I'm known to be
Dim the (Hip-tie) for the MJG

Chorus, 2X

Verse 3,

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

Chorus, 2X

End with