Luyện nghe bài hát Show 'em How We Do Things

Aw yeah, I got from around the way in the house, you
Know what I'm Yo check it out, check it out
I got my man Shel-Rumble in the
I got my man in the house
I got my man Rock-A-Lot in the
Yo, yo, we gonna do it like this, it out

I know some brothers with the skills to rock
Problem is they don't be no spotlight
They got as good as any others
So I'm a time out to kick it with them brothers
They brothers are professional, crazy
Just some I got to give credit to
rolling strong, know right from wrong
got skills, so I got to put 'em on
So Shel-Rumble (what's up?) Since this is a man crew thing
Put the 40 and show 'em how we do things

Shel-Rumble, yeah, that's the
I'm a kick off just like a football game
I'm stepping out with my mic in my right
Bagging up and throwing their rhymes in the trash can
They play the roll they hard but yet they sit off
Put me against the and I'll still get my shit off
I'm like Simon so you'd better do Simon says
I'm not Williams, but yo, I'm making promises
My style's treacherous, so impetuous
I'll go all out if a tries to step to this
So hear the flavor through the
I get the ladies just like sneakers
I'm a brother too hard to touch
Cause if you try my crew we'll in just like double dutch
You'll get bombarded if you unprepared son
Cause yo (there's no thing as a fair one)
So step, to avoid a fucking tooth
Rhymes are insulated, means I'm wack proof
You're just the opposite, you're but a small fry
Weak MC coming up for a guy
So don't a saga
Cause you'll catch amnesia just like the central jogger
That's what when cases gets drastic
I'll give you two options, or get that ass kicked
So, jot this down you hail a
MC getting shit sewn just like a
I get smooth, rough, rugged, raw, and
Too tough to bluff, so rough you just
Away, now can I get a hip-hip
I say that you never would have thought to say
Rhymes poured just so we can quench your thirst
I guarentee I'll you saying "kick another verse"
Or, if you feel that's not style
I guarantee you'll be laid with a Kool-Aid smile
On your grill, you chill, I'm for
As my rhyme Shel-Rumble got skills
I flaunt the on the mic the way a man should
Even old folks be saying (that boy is good)
Cause I so perfectly
That's why so many worship me
I got skills, but that's not why I'm
I'm here to let you know I it like a pioneer
So Harry-O (what's up?) You way far from
Won't you get on the mic and show the people a something

Yo, brothers the mic and plan on waxing me
But since they're no to me they can't do jack to me
The rap pros slay rappers for fun
rhymes like a gun so run son or get done
My rap style may like a cashier
As I bust ass with shit I wrote last
So MC's step up and press your
I don't give a fuck, I roll like a Tonka truck
I watch MC's get silenced when it to a challenge
Cause the shit I kick is knocking off balance
Watch 'em fall and crawl just like a
Heading for the door yelling "save me, me"
Don't to attack me, just shut your trap, B
Don't have me grab the mic and bust your ass like an acne
Cause shop is simple
I tear up while Rock rips the instrumental
A part, so don't up a seminar
we'll bust your ass word to God, you can send Allah
My no joke, and I'm hype, folks
So fuck around and get your turns and your mics
I take no shorts here, ain't last year
I'm swift, elevating in fast gear
I create rhymes and kick them, never will I victim, yo
know the rap pro can flow
And rap norm, both off and on
You turn me off if I was hooked to a platform
I get raw like bloody liver, a rapper shiver and shake
So make no you're stepping to the great
Rap pro, I get raw it's natural
My cousin sport a and half-moon, I sport an afro
call my Harry-O, my real name's Harry though
I scream on rapper the niggas did to Carry, so
(yeah yeah) my man, my cousin
I know you're going to some shit

You thought I
When it comes to funky I'll show you who the boss is
(Yo money that shit!) Hold your motherfucking horses
Wait up, hold up, I the low cut
If rap was a game I'd opponents on a doughnut
Funky warlord, top on the
Dissing Finesse, that shit is for
Brothers front and fret how roll correct
Grab the mic and think pose a threat
Talking all the brothers they coulda killed
I don't care if you're a New Jack or you're older than Sugar
Cause I slay no delay
I stomp you out, so be your way
You can't hang, still in the slow poke zone
You're helpless a patient in an old folks home
So up with my further adventures
I'll have it going on til I'm old with
I parties and tear the roof off of houses
Think I can't? Put your where your mouth is
me a mic, let me clear my throat
Guaranteed I'll send you broke
Fast and quick cause I'm with the gift
me my money I don't wanna hear shit
And those who rap, I don't wanna hear jack
I opponents in two minutes flat
When it's showtime, they don't wanna fight
They bitching saying (Why he have to come at night?)
the Funky Man the brother with the new swing
Lord Finesse just you how I do things

Yeah, like I
Got the in the house Harry-O and Shel-Rumble
Rock-A-Lot, my man Jazzy Jay, and I'm outta here like Ray, peace