Luyện nghe bài hát Slap Them Up

Tellin' it like it is, right now D.J. Premier
Is in the motherfuckin' house and
Ya know what I'm But yo, yo Kris, run that shit
Ya know what I'm That, that shit, my joint
Run that motherfucker, it's right kid

(Do it, do, do, do it)
that bass line, you want lyrics?
We give ya lyrics, check it out now, one
(Do it, do, do, do it)

When we come in all de dance D.J.'s shut up, woy
Gal, ya come slap them up
When we come in all de dance D.J.'s shut up, woy
Ill will, slap up

MC's get ate, get like a pretzel
And get dissed if they ever try to to
They take a MC with loose lips
Talk a lotta shit but sink no ships

Lyrics make bigger holes hollow tips
another rapper body get stiff
Just like in church, we pass the
As I preach over his

Fuck it, kick the body right
And say, "See ya, hmm, to know ya"
Got another to see
Yo Kris, that ass certainly

If you're get off the pot
Let the original rapper the spot
You stand and jock, goin'
is absolutely ludicrous, what can you do to Kris

Chattin' foolishness, step along quick with that
It's me rippin' this for self, where else ya
I got more rhymes than all the Jamaicans in
So beat it or be seated, Gee I'm mad

boy, you can't see me, run along and make pee-pee
I was rockin' when 'La-Di-Da-Di' was a demo
Admit you on my tip for years and just can't seem to let go
Go, go call mother, tell her you wanna battle KRS quick
I bet the minute you get home you'll get ass whipped

Crazy ill mad is what I give 'em
Not a run of the mill 'em, I drill 'em, I got rhythm
of my styles you can get with 'em
Still um, will um, your crew come get so I can kill 'em

Well, I by myself but don't let it fool ya
If I got beef my crew'll step to ya
We don't play no games, I'll come to your rest
Lift up your shirt and blast you in your chest, well, that was

A fad doesn't the bill, but mad skills will
Don't let me have to kill you kid, God forbid
Greed will lead your need to
But your speed, speech

Your outreach is a breach of I teach
For lyrical you're a leech
If I was Spanish I'd say, "You lie a beech"
Wow, wow, wow, wow, wow, wow, wow, wow, wow, wow

Wow, for a you really looked hard
But really a bitch, when you get it together
Call me, my card
the list, you lack breath control, mental behavior
Lyrical talent, imagination and

I got no time for amateur rhyme, you could be
you're hard because you wear a gangsta T-Shirt
I'll smash wanna-be ass in the deep dirt
Black, you'll come up dizzy sayin', "How da he do dat?"

'Cause you're yappin' like you can't be
If your name ain't Arrested Development, save your
to ill, I got mad skills to fill
Not a fake, I got more styles than got Tasty Cakes

Gotta be the Gee, don't try to test me
You'll get jacked son, even if your is not Jesse
Let's be up front I meet ya
Peace, uh, I'm the teacher

When we come in all de dance D.J.'s shut up, woy
Gal, will ya come slap up
When we in all de dance 'nuff D.J.'s shut up, woy
Gal, will ya come them up

Do it, do, do, do it
Yo Bronx, South South Bronx
South Bronx, South South yo,
Brooklyn's in the house, lemme ya 'bout Staten Island
What about Do it, do, do, do it, do it, do, do, do it