Luyện nghe bài hát Road To Riches

1]
When I was years old I used to hear funk and soul
played out my pop's hi-fi stereo
Looking at the photos, on the names
With the fold out covers and the crazy
I got and bought my own records
By thirteen I had crates collected, huh
And that's my pride, no for white rides
Kept on the and I stayed inside
I was sort of a poser how I had my over
Cutting up we wrecked that direct drive loader
Mom's turntable went through
A whole lot of wicky-wicky trynna myself
The records got cause the parties was rough
But I still showed up to try to rock cuts, what
And I was young but the bigger reached out
Give me five minutes on decks to out
The to get it right, maybe one night
I be bout my life on the cordless mic
No matter how it look, always one foot
Between records and books, and the suckers got
Dreamed about it two straight
Way before first wax got made
The is my love and it is my business
My is Big Slug, I'm on the road to the...

2]
I used to stand on the block selling track tapes
Trynna make enough to buy more blanks
was all kinds of hits, backpacks and drips
Sweatshirts running network and and cred
The word was spread speed, the name grew like weeds
Wasn't long we took the lead
cities was little and the winter was bitter
Getting bigger and bigger, they started taking my
For the shit I spit, rappers I knew quit
Got jobs and a family, just couldn't handle it
Lice and rhyming, living a roach
On the ground and broke, onto the Hulk
In a small scene we stole like a thief
No time to sleep with and beef, huh
all pussies, dicks and assholes
Collecting stripes from little battles
Many mics we gripped, any we'd rip
Even with no chips we'd take road trips
members of the crew had my back to death
G-Pool, Moonsign, myself and
All we had was rhymes, offa the mind
For the first time in my life felt fine
The turntables turn while the mix it
I didn't know I was on the to the...

3]
The pop that for props, he eventually stops
And hops on some desktop guest spots
The gangster's muscle, are up in the
But if raps are wack they go back to the hustle
I was the one on the side of smoking a gun
Taught me how to and how to run
Make or break it, the hater's can't say
awake late night in Ant's basement
Take notes, painted the paved road
The tapes sold, got with scapegoat, huh
means work, in other words sewer van
Peace to J-Berg, the man with the plan
Seeds get planted, hands get
Damn straight, gonna goin till the man breaks
And MC's who wanna make ends meet out on my
But never ever keep
Stack the blocks, that fox
Rhymesayers locked on the Mid-West
Troopers, soldiers, to shoulder
Sold out the shows and give the groupies to my
New tour dates, the money, put out more tapes
And it foreplay, ready for the war games
Sew it up and then with the snitches
on the road to the riches... bitches!

"The money it counts steep" - G Rap]