Luyện nghe bài hát Ruff Ruff

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

foxxx]
Yo check this out, all aside
get busy

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

foxxx]
Worrrrrrrd up! aiyyo this out
This is f-o-x-x-x
And guess next

Every wan fi chat, they 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, they wan fi
Every posse wan fi chat, but ju dem is wack
Every posse wan fi chat, but ju knows dem is
jump 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 cape on me
Then me, fly all around the world
Krs, the artical, is not to be [*changes from
Fucked with, ? with, or with
Don't give a fuck if you wanna
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, career, like a quarterback
That his back, my tongue is like a bat
Your eye'll get black, you'll need an (rrrrruff!)
I'm all that, come your whole pack
You'll be to the God of isaac
So freddie foxxx, it's time to get [uh-huh]
Just, get on the mic and get ruff,

[freddie
Soon as I flex, cause I'm to rip up shop
It's the return of the hip-hop master, the foxxx
(bo!) rappers see me, don't even speak, just walk
Cause I'm the nigga in new york (hah!)
I see a rapper in the that 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 that a pimp'll sell his ass
If his hoe won't, but freddie foxxx
your chest g, you better wear a bulletproof vest see
Cause I'm about to leave this place a mess
Open hearts on the as I explore
Rappers that wanted to be more than number
Number one's a spot; either you fight
Or get shot, so this is 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 i'ma straight up knock off (pom! pom!)
And when the cops to get me
take a dead body, and bop ten cops with me
I'm and tired of hearin rappers talk smack
About who's nice, and who's whack, that
They know my style, and my rep, every
That I stepped on - I was the they slept on
But y'all keep sleepin - cause when they plant
in your house, i'ma wake you up and punch you
In your mouth, knock your wife out
Take your to safety, cause they're just kids
And I wanna em to face me
And when get a little bigga
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. tough and, you're full of and
And freddie foxxx you bluffin
I got you in my torture and you scream
Oh God damn, like _silence of the lambs_
But I don't em and eat em
I take to the war zone, and there I defeat em
It gets much worse, with verse
As the f-o-x-x-x, hurts!
Punishes, stomps, smashes, crushes,
You suckers my name!
Aiyyo kris! I'm rhymin enough (say what? )
Get on the mic and get ruff,

This is the that I go all out (why? )
Edutainment's what I'm all (and)
I eat franks 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, peace to larock! (word)
Now let me the style that has action
many mc's don't believe they're rappin
They're lost, mixed-up in their identity
This is not, hip-hop is meant to be (word up)
I come unique, I be beat, hardcore street
For the kids, with a on their feet
(kick it) I compete, I defeat and delete ya
critique ya, all mc's retreat, here comes the t'cha
Chewin suckers smuckers
Hittin on, sittin on, shittin on, flippin on
Yeah, I'm like the movie
I hide inside your right man, when you think you got me
Bam! my head out your chest
A mutilated of nastyness
Chunks of bloody flesh, yes krs on the
Specialize in instant style, you simply add water
Evian, I pull the string
Ring-ding-ding,
Back in the days, I wrote bronx+
The crew got stomped, lick two shot
Pom! pom! really it was fault
Always diss somebody, he got put to a halt
wack, when a sucker dj babbles on
Soupin up to battle on song
That's wrong, but in any event, I drop the
In the original it ain't plastic
Everybody know, bdp, is fantastic, burn acid
Credit card plastic, stretch like
and respect is the tactic
Bam! in your motherfuckin
Krs in the
I never liked listening to and hoes anyway
(fi-yah!)

foxxx]
Well you know I like hoes, cause I'm a
But I don't like the tracks, youknowhati'msayin?
And for all suckers out there
That the militant mack, get the bo-zack
You what I mean? (word) word!

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

[freddie
Yes.. fresh.. for nineteen-ninety-two you * echoes *

Motherfuckers! brrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr! * echoes to *