Luyện nghe bài hát Ruff Ruff

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

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

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! aiyyo this out
is freddie f-o-x-x-x
And guess what's

Every posse wan fi chat, wan fi chat, they wan fi chat
posse wan fi chat, but ju knows dem is wack
Every posse wan fi chat, they wan fi chat, wan fi chat
posse wan fi chat, but ju knows dem is wack
Every posse wan fi chat, but ju 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 open up to work, I put a on me back
me, fly all around the emcee world
Krs, the artical, is not to be [*changes from
Fucked with, ? with, or with
Don't a fuck if you wanna riff
But you say kris, already derivative of kris
My eyebrows lift and ass I get with (huh)
As a of fact, I attack, hijack
Set back, your career, like a
broke his back, my tongue is like a bat
Your eye'll get black, you'll need an (rrrrruff!)
I'm all that, come with whole pack
be prayin to the God of isaac
So foxxx, it's time to get tough [uh-huh]
Just, get on the mic and get ruff,

foxxx]
Soon as I flex, cause I'm about to rip up
It's the return of the hip-hop master, freddie the
(bo!) rappers that see me, don't speak, just walk
I'm the maddest nigga in new york (hah!)
I see a rapper in the crowd that I 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 that a sell his ass
If his hoe won't, but freddie foxxx
Cover your chest g, you better a bulletproof vest see
Cause I'm about to leave place a motherfuckin mess
Open on the floor as I explore
that wanted to be more than number four
Number one's a hard spot; 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, don't come
Cause i'ma straight up knock off (pom! pom!)
And when the come to get me
I'ma take a dead body, and bop ten with me
I'm and tired of hearin rappers talk smack
who's nice, and who's whack, motherfuck that
They my style, and my rep, every stage
I stepped on - I was the rapper they slept on
But y'all rappers sleepin - cause when they plant
Bombs in your house, wake you up and punch you
In your motherfuckin mouth, your wife out
Take your sons to safety, they're just kids
And I raise em to face me
And when they get a little
I'ma mark them niggaz, and put their fingerprints
On the trigger -- homicide, call the vice
rapper and his family with no life
Yeah you're mr. and, you're full of stuff and
And foxxx caught you bluffin
I got you in my chamber and you scream
Oh God damn, like _silence of the lambs_
But I mangle em and eat em
I take mc's to the war zone, and I defeat em
It much worse, with every verse
As the f-o-x-x-x, hurts!
Punishes, stomps, smashes, crushes,
You suckers my name!
Aiyyo kris! I'm rhymin long enough (say )
Get on the mic and get ruff,

This is the year I go all out (why? )
Edutainment's what I'm all (and)
I don't eat with the sauerkraut (cause)
Because I don't eat pork the tail 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 that has
many mc's don't believe they're rappin
They're lost, crazy mixed-up in their
This is not, what hip-hop is to be (word up)
I come unique, I can't be beat, street
For the kids, with a hundred-and-fifty on feet
(kick it) I don't compete, I defeat and ya
Then critique ya, all retreat, here comes the t'cha
Chewin suckers smuckers
Hittin on, on, shittin on, flippin on motherfuckers
Yeah, I'm like the _aliens_
I hide inside right hand man, when you think you got me
Bam! my head comes out your
A mess of nastyness
Chunks of bloody flesh, yes krs on the
Specialize in instant rhyme style, you simply add
Evian, I the string then
Ring-ding-ding,
Back in the days, I +south bronx+
The crew got stomped, lick two shot
Pom! pom! it was magic's fault
Always diss somebody, he got put to a halt
It's wack, when a sucker dj on
Soupin up mc's to battle on
wrong, but in any event, I drop the classic
In 1992 the it ain't plastic
Everybody know, bdp, is fantastic, burn acid
Credit card plastic, stretch elastic
Love and respect is the
Bam! in your motherfuckin
Krs in the
I never liked listening to bitches and anyway
(fi-yah!)

[freddie
Well you know I like hoes, I'm a mack
But I don't the wack tracks, youknowhati'msayin?
And for all your out there
That underestimate the militant mack, get the
You what I mean? (word) word!

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

foxxx]
Yes.. fresh.. for you suckers * echoes *

Motherfuckers! brrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr! * echoes to *