Luyện nghe bài hát Rhymes Too Funky Pt. 1

Who's all that damn loud-ass music out there?
(With the funky piano...) --> D
that shit down, man
Don't you know I'm tryin to get sleep here?
(With the piano...) --> Chuck D

What you
I'll go your goddamn head, man
If you put that goddamn music down, man
(With the piano...) --> Chuck D
Woman, call 911 to get niggas off this goddamn street
I got to now

(Compton's in the house)
(Yeah)

[ VERSE 1: MC ]
Yeah, killin off suckers, me
You're tryin to take me for some punk MC?
I'm to tax dollars, raps not cheap
Compton's Most Wanted, punk, rollin four
that I'm packin, sucker better put it back
I'm slappin girls cause my rhymes on hit
But on the smooth tip, that butt
Had too much St. Ides, and throwin it up
Super lyricist, yeah, in fact
I'm sprayin all you faggot fake MC
Boy, I and rack and pack and stack
To smash all the sucker MC's in a war-like
So (What's up?)
Tell these fools that they ran out of luck
(Hey yo Eiht) up?
(Boy, I you said enough)
Chill, I ain't shit until I call a punk's bluff
Put you on to punishment, Eiht is like your
Wanna beg? Sucker, bother
Last-place think you can handle this?
(1-2-3) Sock em smooth the canvas
time to start pumpin, know what I'm sayin
Yeah, I got the picture, I the sprayin

[ VERSE 2: Tha ]
Boy, up, Tha Chill's on the stage
C.M.W. is a Hub City army brigade
no slack to no plack or no punk new jack
Get racked like because your rhymes are wack
So hit me with best shot, and boy, you see
How Tha Chill and the drop punk MC's
But credit's never due to you suckers be fakin it
Call it a jack, but yo, I'm just it
Your money, your gold, fortune, and your fame
So it up, because you got no game
So just let up, I'm fed up
You're talkin trash, punk, just up
Leave it to Tha Chill, yeah, I care of business
(That's bet, cause is the witness)
A super hype mellow cold chillin lyricist
Like a scary movie suckers play this
In fact you're a pole in thick asphalt
But diss my posse, yo, I'm droppin the dogs
So chill as Tha Chill explains
When it comes to over I know all the game
So suckers don't me like a backstreet junkie
Cause C.M.W.'s cold it, rhymes too funky

C.M.W. - is that you,
(Yeah!)
Keep on playin shit, man
I like shit, man
Woman, cancel 911 call
They comin anyway, this is Compton
Man, that was gonna sound good in my T-Bird, man