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 sayin'? But yo, yo Kris, run that
Ya know what I'm That, that shit, my joint
Run that motherfucker, only 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, will ya come slap up
When we come in all de dance 'nuff D.J.'s up, woy
Ill will, slap up

MC's get ate, get like a pretzel
And get dissed if ever try to step to
can't take a MC with loose lips
Talk a lotta but sink no motherfuckin' ships

Lyrics make bigger holes than hollow
Watch another rapper body get
Just like in church, we the basket
As I preach his casket

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

If shiverin' get off the pot
Let the original rapper the spot
You there and jock, goin'
This is absolutely ludicrous, what can you do to

Chattin' foolishness, along quick with that stupidness
It's me this for self, where else ya lookin'?
I got more than all the Jamaicans in Brooklyn
So it or be seated, Gee I'm mad undefeated

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

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

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

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

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

Wow, for a amateur you really hard
But you're really a bitch, you get it together
Call me, my card
the list, you lack breath control, mental behavior
Lyrical talent, and flavor

I got no time for amateur rhyme, you be hurt
Thinkin' hard because you wear a gangsta T-Shirt
I'll smash your 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 Development, save your speech
Time to ill, I got mad skills to
Not a fake, I got more styles than Drake's got Tasty

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

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

Do it, do, do, do it
Yo South Bronx, South Bronx
South Bronx, South yo, Uptown
in the house, lemme tell ya 'bout Staten Island
What Queens? Do it, do, do, do it, do it, do, do, do it