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
the fold out covers and the crazy illustrations
I got older and bought my own
By thirteen I had three collected, huh
And that's my pride, no for white rides
Kept on the grind and I stayed
I was sort of a poser how I had my friends
Cutting up till we wrecked that drive loader
Mom's went through hell
A lot of wicky-wicky trynna teach myself
The got stuffed cause the parties was rough
But I still up to try to rock some cuts, what
And I was young but the bigger kids out
Give me five minutes on 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 and books, and the suckers got shook
about it two decades straight
Way before Rhymesayers wax got made
The is my love and it is my business
My name is Big Slug, I'm on the to the...

2]
I used to stand on the block selling four tapes
Trynna enough papes to buy more blanks
There was all of hits, backpacks and drips
Sweatshirts running and guess and cred
The word was spread speed, the name grew like weeds
Wasn't till we took the lead
Twin cities was little and the was bitter
Getting bigger and bigger, they started my picture
For the shit I spit, some I knew quit
Got and a family, they just couldn't handle it
Lice and rhyming, living a roach
On the and broke, holding onto the Hulk
In a small town scene we like a thief
No time to with politics and beef, huh
They all pussies, and assholes
Collecting stripes from little freestyle
mics we gripped, any stage we'd rip
Even with no chips we'd them 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 felt fine
The turn while the DJ's mix it
I didn't I was on the road to the...

3]
The pop that rocks for props, he eventually
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 opposite of smoking a gun
me how to rhyme and how to run
Make or it, the hater's can't say shit
Stayed awake night in Ant's basement
Take notes, spray painted the paved
The tapes sold, got with scapegoat, huh
means work, in other words sewer van
Peace to J-Berg, the man with the core
Seeds get planted, hands get
straight, gonna keep goin till the man breaks
And MC's who make ends meet out on my route
But never ever keep
Stack the blocks, catch fox
Rhymesayers on the Mid-West crops
Troopers, soldiers, to shoulder
Sold out the shows and give the to my chauffer
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 it counts steep" - [Kool G Rap]