Luyện nghe bài hát Salute Part Ii

"Yeah, they about rap."
"We don't rap, its not about rap we livin it they talkin about.
It's not about college or what you read in a newspaper or magazine. Its its reality, this is our nature. Its how we live."

Now everybody on Earth wanna rap, we burnt all of
Knocked off the game, and cold broke is
Gang Starr, will Billy Danze and Big
Word to Laze, big and big gats
You whip it right so pick up the pace
Word to grimy niggas, want to stick up the place
Word to hiphop, a crib that's laced
Primo's breaks, activate the mental, all
We got credentials galore, fuck a small vending
Yet, still, I be at the around-the-way
where niggas be slinging innocent get hit by straight shots
And brave cops, the community
While cops, be harrasing you and me
Pullin me over, in front of the crib, in of my neighbors
for favors, here's a cassette and why you
question my
me, trying to catch me off quard
I shrug scars, you see a lot of hoes at thug
I don't care what beats my do
We'll sun you, I see right through
Its way it to me and M.O.P.
To Get a Rep, nigga, you best to step, nigga, Salute!

Holdin it
Phony ass
serious
em
(Is this hiphop) Hell no is war
Heavy artillery, in my
*repeat - 5th line to: M.O.P.*

Danze]

Aiyyo, the game's called *echoes* I admit
As a soldier, I've a lot of shit
To the so-called dude, I ain't mad at you
But I wish I of had to do the shit I had to do
It's true, I jump up in a Bamma
And travle miles of road to this hammer
(And I) ?colors? when they glance
At the baby boy of and Frank Danze
I won't the blazin
But I will think what size slug best for the occasion
(It's so amazin) ???? pop
Like Windy till you fuckers bury me
(Who we be!) What, what's wrong,
(First Family) Come, on, nigga!
(Ain't nothin cute) My niggas is ready to
For the love of the First thugs, Salute!

[Lil'

Before you slit your wrist, bitch, this
M.O.P., Gang Starr (Damn!)
Thugs that got love for this and shit
Makin words rhyme at the time poppin shit
I to go to jams, and drop grammar
Before I left told me (Boy take your hammer!)
nuff, shit got rowdy
Dumped off my first at a house party
I this rap shit, though, the love is clear
But fuck the parties, my nigga, I lost a brother
Only if I'm gettin (That's right)
And the shit gon' the trade
I snatch a mic, it out, bad
Even have you smooth fuckin up yours shoes and your outfit
I be, the Brownsville (Signing out)
Act like you what I'm about, Salute!