Luyện nghe bài hát Slap Them Up

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

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

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

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

Lyrics make bigger holes than tips
Watch another rapper get stiff
Just in church, we pass the basket
As I preach over his

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

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

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

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

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

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

A fad fill the bill, but mad skills will
let me have to kill you kid, God forbid still
Greed will lead your need to
But your speed, speech

Your outreach is a breach of 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 looked
But you're really a bitch, when you get it
Call me, here's my
Check the list, you breath control, mental behavior
talent, imagination and flavor

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

'Cause you're yappin' like you be reached
If your name ain't Arrested Development, save speech
Time to ill, I got mad to fill
Not a fake, I got more styles than Drake's got Cakes

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

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

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