Luyện nghe bài hát Ruff Ruff

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

foxxx]
Yo check this out, all jokes
Let's get

Word! blastmaster in the house
Hah, for some reason wanna be a gangsta
You don't know about bein no gangsta

[freddie
up! aiyyo check this out
This is f-o-x-x-x
And guess next

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

[freddie
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, even speak, just walk
Cause I'm the maddest in new york (hah!)
I see a rapper in the crowd that I like
I fight, so when I drop the mic
I'ma jump off the stage, bumrush your to whip
(suckers) wanna be pimps
How I heard it said that a pimp'll his ass
If his hoe won't, but freddie foxxx
Cover your chest g, you better wear a vest see
I'm about to leave this place a motherfuckin mess
Open hearts on the as I explore
Rappers that to be more than number four
one's a hard spot; either you fight
Or get shot, so is what I got (bo!)
Three tec-9's, my uzi, ten grenades, my blades
And I aim to get paid!
So who wanna step to this, come soft
Cause straight up knock niggaz off (pom! pom!)
And when the cops to get me
I'ma take a dead body, and bop ten cops me
I'm sick and tired of hearin rappers talk
who's nice, and who's whack, motherfuck that
They know my style, and my rep, stage
That I stepped on - I was the rapper slept on
But y'all rappers keep sleepin - cause they plant
Bombs in your house, wake you up and punch you
In your mouth, knock your wife out
Take your sons to safety, they're just kids
And I raise em to face me
And when get a little bigga
mark them little niggaz, and put their fingerprints
On the trigger -- homicide, call the vice
Another rapper and his with no life
Yeah you're mr. tough and, you're of stuff and
And freddie foxxx you bluffin
I got you in my torture chamber and you
Oh God damn, it's _silence of the lambs_
But I mangle em and eat em
I take to the war zone, and there I defeat em
It gets worse, with every verse
As the f-o-x-x-x, hurts!
Punishes, stomps, smashes, crushes,
You suckers my name!
Aiyyo kris! I'm 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 franks with the (cause)
Because I don't eat pork from the to the snout
(well it) get on down, to the hip hip hop
I start, peace to scott larock! (word)
Now let me drop the style has action
Cause many mc's don't they're rappin
They're lost, crazy mixed-up in their
This is not, what is meant to be (word up)
I unique, I can't be beat, hardcore street
For the kids, with a hundred-and-fifty on feet
(kick it) I don't compete, I and delete ya
Then critique ya, all mc's retreat, here the t'cha
Chewin suckers smuckers
Hittin on, sittin on, shittin on, on motherfuckers
Yeah, I'm like the movie
I inside your right hand man, when you think you got me
Bam! my head comes out chest
A mess of nastyness
Chunks of flesh, yes krs on the slaughter
Specialize in instant style, you simply add water
Evian, I the string then
Ring-ding-ding,
in the days, I wrote +south bronx+
The juice crew got stomped, two shot
Pom! pom! really it was fault
wanna diss somebody, he got put to a halt
It's wack, a sucker dj babbles on
Soupin up mc's to battle on
That's wrong, but in any event, I the classic
In the original it ain't plastic
Everybody know, bdp, is fantastic, burn acid
Credit card plastic, stretch elastic
and respect is the tactic
Bam! in your face
Krs in the
I never listening to bitches and hoes anyway
(fi-yah!)

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

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

foxxx]
Yes.. fresh.. for nineteen-ninety-two you * echoes *

Motherfuckers! brrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr! * to fade *