Luyện nghe bài hát Ruff Ruff

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

[freddie
Yo check out, all jokes aside
get busy

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

[freddie
Worrrrrrrd up! aiyyo check out
is freddie f-o-x-x-x
And guess what's

Every wan fi chat, they wan fi chat, they wan fi chat
Every posse wan fi chat, but ju 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 jump pon the mic, an' wan fi do it 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 the emcee world
Krs, the artical, is not to be [*changes patois*]
Fucked with, ? with, or tampered
Don't a fuck if you wanna riff
But when you say kris, already of kris
My lift and that ass I get with (huh)
As a matter of fact, I attack,
Set back, your career, a quarterback
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 your whole
be prayin to the God of isaac
So freddie foxxx, it's 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!) that see me, don't even speak, just walk
I'm the maddest nigga in new york (hah!)
I see a rapper in the crowd that I don't
I wanna fight, so I drop the mic
I'ma off the stage, bumrush your crowd to whip
(suckers) wanna be pimps
How I heard it said a pimp'll sell his ass
If his hoe won't, but foxxx don't
Cover your chest g, you better wear a bulletproof see
Cause I'm about to this place a motherfuckin mess
hearts on the floor as I explore
Rappers wanted to be more than number four
Number one's a hard either you fight
Or get shot, so this is I got (bo!)
Three tec-9's, my uzi, ten grenades, my razor
And I aim to get paid!
So who wanna step to this, don't soft
i'ma straight up knock niggaz off (pom! pom!)
And the cops come to get me
I'ma take a dead body, and bop ten cops me
I'm and tired of hearin rappers talk smack
About who's nice, and who's whack, motherfuck
They my style, and my rep, every stage
That I on - I was the rapper they slept on
But y'all rappers keep sleepin - when they plant
Bombs in your house, i'ma wake you up and you
In motherfuckin mouth, knock your wife out
Take your sons to safety, cause they're just
And I raise em to face me
And when get a little bigga
I'ma mark them little niggaz, and put their
On the trigger -- double homicide, the vice
rapper and his family with no life
Yeah you're mr. tough and, full of stuff and
And freddie foxxx you bluffin
I got you in my torture and you scream
Oh God damn, it's like of the lambs_
But I mangle em and eat em
I mc's to the war zone, and there I defeat em
It gets much worse, 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? )
what I'm all about (and)
I don't eat franks with the (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 that has action
Cause mc's 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, street
For the kids, with a on their feet
(kick it) I compete, I defeat and delete ya
Then ya, all mc's retreat, here comes the t'cha
suckers like smuckers
Hittin on, on, shittin on, flippin on motherfuckers
Yeah, I'm the movie _aliens_
I hide inside your right man, when you think you got me
Bam! my head out your chest
A mess 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,
in the days, I wrote +south bronx+
The juice crew got stomped, lick two
Pom! pom! it was magic's fault
Always wanna somebody, he got put to a halt
It's wack, when a dj babbles on
Soupin up mc's to on song
That's wrong, but in any event, I the classic
In 1992 the it ain't plastic
Everybody know, bdp, is fantastic, burn acid
Credit plastic, stretch like elastic
Love and respect is the
Bam! in your face
Krs in the
I never liked listening to and hoes anyway
(fi-yah!)

foxxx]
Well you I like hoes, cause I'm a mack
But I don't like the wack tracks,
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, they wan fi chat, you dem a wack
Every wan fi chat, but ya knows dey is wack

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

Motherfuckers! brrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr! * to fade *