Luyện nghe bài hát Road To Riches

1]
When I was five old I used to hear funk and soul
Being played out my hi-fi stereo
at the photos, buggin on the names
With the fold out covers and the crazy
I got and bought my own records
By I had three crates collected, huh
And that's my pride, no for white rides
Kept on the and I stayed inside
I was sort of a how I had my friends over
Cutting up till we wrecked that direct loader
Mom's turntable went through
A whole lot of wicky-wicky trynna teach
The records got stuffed cause the was rough
But I still up to try to rock some cuts, what
And I was young but the bigger kids out
me five minutes on decks to freak out
The to get it right, maybe one night
I be bout my life on the cordless mic
No matter how it look, always kept one
records and books, and the suckers got shook
Dreamed it two decades straight
Way before Rhymesayers wax got made
The music is my love and it is my
My is Big Slug, I'm on the road to the...

2]
I used to stand on the selling four track tapes
make enough papes to buy more blanks
There was all kinds of hits, and drips
Sweatshirts network and guess and cred
The word was spread with speed, the name grew weeds
Wasn't long we took the lead
Twin cities was little and the winter was
Getting bigger and bigger, they taking my picture
For the shit I spit, some I knew quit
Got and a family, they just couldn't handle it
and rhyming, living like a roach
On the ground and broke, holding the Hulk
In a small town we stole like a thief
No time to with politics and beef, huh
They all pussies, and assholes
Collecting stripes from little freestyle
Many mics we gripped, any we'd rip
Even with no chips we'd take road trips
Loyal members of the crew had my back to
G-Pool, Moonsign, myself and
All we had was rhymes, offa the mind
For the first time in my life everything felt
The turntables turn the DJ's mix it
I know I was on the road to the...

3]
The pop rocks for props, he eventually stops
And maybe hops on some desktop guest
The gangster's muscle, are up in the
But if their raps are wack they go back to the
I was the one on the opposite side of a gun
me how to rhyme and how to run
Make or break it, the hater's say shit
Stayed awake late in Ant's basement
Take notes, spray the paved road
The tapes sold, got lucky scapegoat, huh
means work, in other words sewer van
Peace to J-Berg, the man with the plan
get planted, hands get handshakes
Damn straight, gonna goin till the man breaks
And MC's who wanna make ends meet out on my
But never ever friendly
Stack the blocks, catch fox
Rhymesayers locked on the Mid-West
Troopers, soldiers, to shoulder
Sold out the shows and give the to my chauffer
New tour dates, take the money, put out tapes
And call it foreplay, ready for the war
Sew it up and then with the snitches
Atmosphere on the to the riches... bitches!

"The it counts steep" - [Kool G Rap]