Luyện nghe bài hát Road To Riches

1]
When I was five years old I used to funk and soul
Being played out my pop's hi-fi
Looking at the photos, buggin on the
With the fold out covers and the illustrations
I got older and my own records
By thirteen I had three collected, huh
And that's my pride, no time for 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 through hell
A whole lot of wicky-wicky trynna teach
The records got cause the parties was rough
But I still up to try to rock some cuts, what
And I was young but the kids reached out
me five minutes 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, kept one foot
Between records and books, and the suckers got
Dreamed about it two straight
Way before first 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 block 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
long till we took the lead
Twin cities was little and the was bitter
bigger and bigger, they started taking my picture
For the shit I spit, some rappers I knew
Got jobs and a family, they couldn't handle it
Lice and rhyming, like a roach
On the ground and broke, holding onto the
In a small town scene we stole a thief
No time to sleep with and beef, huh
They all pussies, and assholes
Collecting stripes from little freestyle
Many we gripped, any stage we'd rip
Even with no chips we'd them road trips
Loyal of the crew had my back 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 turn while the DJ's mix it
I know I was on the road to the...

3]
The pop that for props, he eventually stops
And maybe hops on some guest spots
The gangster's muscle, are up in the
But if their raps are 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 it, the hater's can't say shit
Stayed awake late in Ant's basement
Take notes, spray painted the road
The sold, got lucky with scapegoat, huh
That means work, in other sewer van
Peace to J-Berg, the man with the plan
Seeds get planted, hands get
Damn straight, gonna keep goin the man breaks
And MC's who wanna make meet out on my route
But never ever keep
Stack the blocks, that fox
Rhymesayers on the Mid-West crops
Troopers, soldiers, to shoulder
out the shows and give the groupies to my chauffer
New tour dates, take the money, put out tapes
And it foreplay, ready for the war games
Sew it up and FUCK with the snitches
on the road to the riches... bitches!

"The money it counts steep" - [Kool G