Luyện nghe bài hát Reason For Rhyme

Verse 1, MJG,

I'm MJG, the with 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 my shoes, and try to walk 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
Shut your mouth, shut your do you little ass hoe
I'm bout tired of all this damn and west coast shit
Especially when other niggaz tryin to in this bitch
I paid my to the fullest, worked 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 playin with enough rope to actually hang
But you care, hell, you constantly fallin deep in the plot
Mesmerized all the bitches and the money you got
You must of they said that rap would never last ten years
And if your selfish to the fact, I'm tryin to have a
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 to do this shit for fun
Bein the dopest on my block me ranked number one
No gun, just a pen and notebook by the sheet
In the crib, gettin funky off the next nigga
No electronics to the shit that I wrote the chronic
Shit sick enough to bring vomit your stomach
Quick as a comet, shield eyes from the UV
Groovey, like a nigga a Batman movie
Real about the shit that I 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 came out dead
And all I ever wanted to be was an
Did a dirt and found it wasn't for me
flowin through my bloodstream like a drug
I'm to rhyme because I love the buzz, nigga

Chorus, 2X:

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

Verse 2,

My reason for rhymin, I'm in, a position to be tellin
It's not the fame and them bitches who be yellin
At my concerts, one verse, dicks up, quick
Lies start 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 tape
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 drink a 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 keep my aim on my paper
And I'll be sure to keep my pimpin real Tony Draper
And I'll potray the man I'm known to be
Dim the (Hip-tie) for the MJG

Chorus, 2X

3, Eightball:

Give me a crowd of niggaz who love real hip hop
And watched get soaked up, like water in a mop
Drop among me and my own folk
And let that bullshit walk among the past ghosts
no hope of bein takin seriously
When limited are given to me
So, naturally I take and make shit mine
Jackin only for position in this called rhyme
Freestyle, not great, but if you for a second
I could write shit down that could get a gold record
Thought about not the first thing that I think
MJG and Eightball and is how we comin 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 shit is so true

Chorus, 2X

End shoutouts