Luyện nghe bài hát Reason For Rhyme

Verse 1, MJG,

I'm MJG, the nigga the versatile style
your calendar realize that I been here for awhile
When I was young I took the soul up out of rhythm and
When hip hop originated slowly my dues
And my shoes, and try to walk a mile in my past
Without them salt shaker sheisters 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 shit
Especially other niggaz tryin to work in this bitch
I my dues to the fullest, worked to god damn hard
For you too kill the and leave me out of a job
You niggaz yourself, to maintain yourself
And now you playin with 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 that rap would 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 keep the pen on the paper and the in your drawers, nigga

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

Chorus, 2X:

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

Verse 2,

My reason for rhymin, while I'm in, a position to be
It's not about the and them bitches who be yellin
At my concerts, one verse, dicks up, fuck
Lies spreadin now you tangled in a mix up
I gits up, do sits up, and my mental mindrame back in order
And use my hand as a recorder
down 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 a shot of Hen
Hit this on your silver 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 game keep my aim on my
And I'll be to keep my pimpin 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 who love real hip hop
And watched get soaked up, like water in a mop
Drop presidents among me and my own
And let that bullshit walk among the past with
Ain't no of bein takin seriously
When limited are given to me
So, naturally I shit and make shit mine
Jackin only for position in this thing rhyme
Freestyle, not great, but if you for a second
I could some shit down that could get a gold record
Thought about not the first thing that I about
MJG and Eightball and is how we comin out
out, niggaz 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