Luyện nghe bài hát Slap Them Up

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

(Do it, do, do, do it)
Drop that bass line, you 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 slap up
When we come in all de dance D.J.'s shut up, woy
Ill will, them up

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

make bigger holes than hollow tips
Watch rapper body get stiff
like in church, we pass the basket
As I preach his casket

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

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

Chattin' foolishness, step along with that stupidness
It's me this for self, where else ya lookin'?
I got more than all the Jamaicans in Brooklyn
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' when 'La-Di-Da-Di' was a demo
Admit you been on my tip for years and just can't to let go
Go, go call your mother, tell her you wanna KRS quick
I bet the minute you get you'll get your ass whipped

Crazy ill mad styles is 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 roll by myself but don't let it ya
If I got beef my damn step to ya
We don't no games, I'll come straight to your rest
Lift up your shirt and blast you in your chest, well, was fresh

A fad doesn't fill the bill, but mad skills
Don't let me have to kill you kid, God forbid
Greed lead your need to succeed
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 looked hard
But you're really a bitch, you get it together
me, here's my card
Check the list, you lack breath control, mental
Lyrical talent, and flavor

I got no for amateur rhyme, you could be hurt
Thinkin' you're hard you wear 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 can't be
If your name ain't Arrested Development, your speech
to ill, I got mad skills to fill
Not a fake, I got more styles than Drake's got Tasty

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

When we come in all de 'nuff D.J.'s shut up, woy
Gal, will ya slap them 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 South Bronx, South Bronx
South Bronx, South yo, Uptown
Brooklyn's in the house, tell ya 'bout Staten Island
What Queens? Do it, do, do, do it, do it, do, do, do it