Luyện nghe bài hát Ruff Ruff

[krs-one] * echoing*
Think you dope? want title?
Then you better step up or step off!

[freddie
Yo this out, all jokes aside
get busy

Word! krs-one in the house
Hah, everybody for some reason wanna be a
You don't know nuttin about bein no

foxxx]
Worrrrrrrd up! check this out
is freddie f-o-x-x-x
And guess next

Every wan fi chat, they wan fi chat, they wan fi chat
Every wan fi chat, but ju knows dem is wack
Every posse wan fi chat, they wan fi chat, wan fi chat
Every wan fi chat, but ju knows dem is wack
Every wan fi chat, but ju knows dem is wack
They jump pon the mic, an' wan fi do it dat
But ahh, now dis a krs, me nah dat
me open up to work, I put a cape on me back
Then me, fly all around the emcee
Krs, the artical, is not to be from patois*]
with, ? with, or tampered with
Don't a fuck if you wanna riff
But when you say kris, already of kris
My eyebrows and that ass I get with (huh)
As a of fact, I attack, hijack
Set back, your career, a quarterback
That broke his back, my tongue is a bat
Your eye'll get black, need an icepack (rrrrruff!)
I'm all that, come with your whole
You'll be prayin to the God of
So freddie foxxx, it's time to get [uh-huh]
Just, get on the mic and get ruff,

foxxx]
Soon as I flex, I'm about to rip up shop
It's the return of the hip-hop master, freddie the
(bo!) rappers that see me, don't speak, just walk
Cause I'm the maddest nigga in new (hah!)
I see a rapper in the crowd I don't like
I wanna fight, so when I the mic
I'ma jump off the stage, bumrush your to whip
(suckers) that wanna be
How I heard it said a pimp'll sell his ass
If his hoe won't, but freddie foxxx
Cover your chest g, you wear a bulletproof vest see
Cause I'm to leave this place a motherfuckin mess
Open on the floor as I explore
Rappers that to be more than number four
one's a hard spot; either you fight
Or get shot, so this is I got (bo!)
tec-9's, my uzi, ten grenades, my razor blades
And I aim to get paid!
So who wanna step to this, don't come
i'ma straight up knock niggaz off (pom! pom!)
And the cops come to get me
I'ma a dead body, and bop ten cops with me
I'm sick and tired of hearin talk smack
About who's nice, and who's whack, that
They know my style, and my rep, stage
That I stepped on - I was the rapper they on
But y'all rappers sleepin - cause when they plant
Bombs in your house, i'ma you up and punch you
In your mouth, knock your wife out
Take your sons to safety, cause just kids
And I raise em to face me
And they get a little bigga
mark them little niggaz, and put their fingerprints
On the trigger -- double homicide, call the
Another and his family with no life
Yeah you're mr. tough and, full of stuff and
And foxxx caught you bluffin
I got you in my chamber and you scream
Oh God damn, it's _silence of the lambs_
But I mangle em and eat em
I take mc's to the war zone, and there I em
It gets much worse, with every
As the f-o-x-x-x, hurts!
Punishes, stomps, smashes, crushes,
You know my name!
kris! I'm rhymin long enough (say what? )
Get on the mic and get ruff,

This is the that I go all out (why? )
Edutainment's I'm all about (and)
I don't eat with the sauerkraut (cause)
Because I don't eat from the tail to the snout
(well it) get on down, to the hip hip hop
Before I start, to scott larock! (word)
Now let me drop the style has action
Cause many don't believe they're rappin
They're lost, crazy in their identity
This is not, what hip-hop is to be (word up)
I come unique, I can't be beat, hardcore
For the kids, with a hundred-and-fifty on their
(kick it) I don't compete, I defeat and ya
critique ya, all mc's retreat, here comes the t'cha
Chewin like smuckers
on, sittin on, shittin on, flippin on motherfuckers
Yeah, I'm like the movie
I hide your right hand man, when you think you got me
Bam! my head out your chest
A mutilated of nastyness
of bloody flesh, yes krs on the slaughter
Specialize in instant rhyme style, you add water
Evian, I the string then
Ring-ding-ding,
Back in the days, I wrote +south
The juice crew got stomped, two shot
Pom! pom! really it was magic's
wanna diss somebody, he got put to a halt
It's wack, when a dj babbles on
Soupin up mc's to on song
wrong, but in any event, I drop the classic
In 1992 the original it plastic
Everybody know, bdp, is fantastic, burn like
Credit plastic, stretch like elastic
Love and is the tactic
Bam! in your motherfuckin
Krs in the
I never liked listening to bitches and hoes
(fi-yah!)

[freddie
Well you know I like hoes, I'm a mack
But I like the wack tracks, youknowhati'msayin?
And for all your suckers out
underestimate the militant mack, get the bo-zack
You what I mean? (word) word!

You why?
Every posse wan fi chat, they wan fi chat, wan fi chat
Every posse wan fi chat, but ya knows dey is
Every posse wan fi chat, they wan fi chat, you know dem a
posse wan fi chat, but ya knows dey is wack

[freddie
Yes.. fresh.. for you suckers * echoes *

Motherfuckers! brrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr! * to fade *