Luyện nghe bài hát Road To Riches

1]
When I was years old I used to hear funk and soul
Being played out my pop's hi-fi
Looking at the photos, on the names
With the fold out and the crazy illustrations
I got older and my own records
By thirteen I had crates collected, huh
And that's my pride, no time for white
Kept on the and I stayed inside
I was sort of a poser how I had my friends
up till we wrecked that direct drive loader
Mom's went through hell
A whole lot of wicky-wicky teach myself
The got stuffed cause the parties was rough
But I still showed up to try to rock some cuts,
And I was but the bigger kids reached out
Give me five minutes on to freak out
The type to get it right, one night
I be rapping my life on the cordless mic
No matter how it look, always one foot
Between records and books, and the got shook
Dreamed about it two straight
Way Rhymesayers first wax got made
The music is my and it is my business
My is Big Slug, I'm on the road to the...

2]
I used to stand on the selling four track tapes
Trynna make enough to buy more blanks
There was all of hits, backpacks and drips
running network and guess and cred
The word was spread speed, the name grew like weeds
long till we took the lead
Twin cities was and the winter was bitter
Getting bigger and bigger, they taking my picture
For the shit I spit, some rappers I quit
Got and a family, they just couldn't handle it
Lice and rhyming, living like a
On the ground and broke, holding the Hulk
In a small town scene we stole like a
No to sleep 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 road trips
Loyal of the crew had my back to death
G-Pool, Moonsign, myself and
All we had was rhymes, coming offa the
For the first in my life everything felt fine
The turntables turn while the mix it
I didn't know I was on the to the...

3]
The pop rocks for props, he eventually stops
And maybe hops on some desktop guest
The muscle, are up in the puzzle
But if their are wack they go back to the hustle
I was the one on the opposite of smoking a gun
me how to rhyme and how to run
Make or break it, the can't say shit
Stayed awake late night in basement
Take notes, spray the paved road
The tapes sold, got with scapegoat, huh
That means work, in other words van
Peace to J-Berg, the man with the core
Seeds get planted, get handshakes
Damn straight, gonna keep goin till the man
And MC's who wanna make ends out on my route
But never ever keep
Stack the blocks, catch fox
locked on the Mid-West crops
Troopers, soldiers, to shoulder
Sold out the shows and the groupies to my chauffer
New tour dates, take the money, put out more
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" - [Kool G