Luyện nghe bài hát Road To Riches

1]
When I was five old I used to hear funk and soul
Being out my pop's hi-fi stereo
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 for white rides
on the grind and I stayed inside
I was sort of a poser how I had my over
Cutting up till we wrecked that direct drive
Mom's turntable through hell
A whole lot of 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 but the bigger kids reached out
Give me 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, always one foot
Between and books, and the suckers got shook
about it two decades straight
Way before Rhymesayers first wax got
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 papes to buy blanks
was all kinds of hits, backpacks and drips
Sweatshirts running network and guess and
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 and bigger, they started taking my picture
For the shit I spit, some rappers I quit
Got jobs and a family, they couldn't handle it
Lice and rhyming, living like a
On the ground and broke, holding the Hulk
In a small town scene we like a thief
No to sleep with politics and beef, huh
They all pussies, and assholes
Collecting stripes from little battles
Many mics we gripped, any we'd rip
with no chips we'd take them road trips
Loyal members of the crew had my back to
G-Pool, Moonsign, and Stress
All we had was rhymes, coming the mind
For the time in my life everything felt fine
The turntables while the DJ's mix it
I didn't I was on the road 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 raps are wack go back 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 late night in basement
notes, spray painted the paved road
The tapes sold, got lucky scapegoat, huh
That work, in other words sewer van
Peace to J-Berg, the man with the plan
Seeds get planted, hands get
Damn straight, gonna keep till the man breaks
And MC's who make ends meet out on my route
But ever keep friendly
Stack the blocks, that fox
Rhymesayers locked on the Mid-West
Troopers, soldiers, to shoulder
Sold out the shows and 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 then FUCK with the
Atmosphere on the to the riches... bitches!

"The money it steep" - [Kool G Rap]