Luyện nghe bài hát Road To Riches

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

2]
I used to stand on the block selling four track
Trynna make enough papes to buy blanks
There was all kinds of hits, backpacks and
Sweatshirts running network and guess and
The was spread with speed, the name grew like weeds
Wasn't long till we the lead
Twin was little and the winter was bitter
Getting bigger and bigger, they started taking my
For the shit I spit, some I knew quit
Got jobs and a family, they just couldn't it
and rhyming, living like a roach
On the and broke, holding onto the Hulk
In a small scene we stole like a thief
No time to with politics and beef, huh
all pussies, dicks and assholes
Collecting stripes from little freestyle
Many mics we gripped, any we'd rip
Even with no chips we'd take them road
Loyal members of the crew had my to death
G-Pool, Moonsign, myself and
All we had was rhymes, coming 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 their are wack they go back to the hustle
I was the one on the opposite side of a gun
me how to rhyme and how to run
Make or break it, the can't say shit
Stayed awake late in Ant's basement
Take notes, spray painted the road
The tapes sold, got lucky scapegoat, huh
That means work, in other words van
to J-Berg, the man with the core plan
Seeds get planted, hands get
Damn straight, gonna keep goin the man breaks
And who wanna make ends meet out on my route
But never keep friendly
Stack the blocks, catch fox
Rhymesayers locked on the crops
Troopers, soldiers, shoulder to
Sold out the and give the groupies to my chauffer
New tour dates, take the money, put out tapes
And call it foreplay, for the war games
Sew it up and FUCK with the snitches
Atmosphere on the to the riches... bitches!

"The money it counts steep" - G Rap]