Luyện nghe bài hát Road To Riches

1]
When I was five years old I used to funk and soul
played out my pop's hi-fi stereo
Looking at the photos, buggin on the
With the 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 we wrecked that direct drive loader
Mom's went through hell
A whole lot of wicky-wicky trynna myself
The records got stuffed cause the parties was
But I still showed up to try to rock some cuts,
And I was young but the bigger 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 how it look, always kept one foot
Between records and books, and the suckers got
Dreamed about it two straight
Way before Rhymesayers 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 block selling four track
Trynna make enough papes to buy more
There was all kinds of hits, backpacks and
Sweatshirts running network and and cred
The word was with speed, the name grew like 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 just couldn't it
and rhyming, living like a roach
On the ground and broke, holding the Hulk
In a town scene we stole like a thief
No time to sleep politics and beef, huh
They all pussies, dicks and
Collecting stripes from freestyle battles
Many we gripped, any stage we'd rip
Even with no we'd take them road trips
Loyal members of the crew had my to death
G-Pool, Moonsign, and Stress
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 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 to the hustle
I was the one on the opposite of smoking a gun
Taught me how to and how to run
Make or break it, the hater's can't say
Stayed awake night in Ant's basement
Take notes, spray painted the road
The tapes sold, got with scapegoat, huh
That means work, in words sewer van
Peace to J-Berg, the man with the core
Seeds get planted, get handshakes
straight, gonna keep goin till the man breaks
And MC's who wanna make ends meet out on my
But never keep friendly
Stack the blocks, catch fox
Rhymesayers on the Mid-West crops
Troopers, soldiers, shoulder to
Sold out the shows and give the to my chauffer
New tour dates, the money, put out more 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" - [Kool G