Luyện nghe bài hát Slap Them Up

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

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

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

MC's get ate, get broken like a
And get dissed if 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 hollow tips
Watch rapper body get stiff
Just like in church, we pass the
As I preach his casket

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

If you're get off the pot
Let the original rock the spot
You there 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 else ya
I got rhymes than all the Jamaicans in Brooklyn
So it or be seated, Gee I'm mad undefeated

boy, you can't see me, run along and make pee-pee
I was rhymes when '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, tell her you wanna KRS quick
I bet the minute you get home get your ass whipped

Crazy ill mad styles is what I 'em
Not a run of the 'em, I drill 'em, I got ridiculous rhythm
None of my you can get with 'em
um, will um, your crew come get some so I can kill 'em

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

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

Your is a breach of what I teach
For lyrical styles you're a
If I was I'd say, "You lie like 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, when you get it
Call me, my card
Check the list, you lack breath control, mental
Lyrical talent, and flavor

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

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

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 teacher

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