Luyện nghe bài hát Slap Them Up

Tellin' it like it is, about now D.J. Premier
Is in the motherfuckin' and shit
Ya know what I'm 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 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, will ya slap them up
we come in all de dance 'nuff D.J.'s shut up, woy
Ill will, them up

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

Lyrics make bigger holes hollow tips
Watch another rapper body get
like 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 rapper to see
Yo Kris, bust that ass

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

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

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

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

Well, I roll by myself but let it fool ya
If I got my crew'll damn step to ya
We don't play no games, I'll straight to your rest
up your 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 kill you kid, God forbid
Greed will lead need to succeed
But speed, your speech

Your outreach is a breach of what I
For lyrical styles 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
Check the list, you lack breath control, mental
Lyrical talent, and flavor

I got no time for rhyme, you could be hurt
you're hard because you wear a gangsta T-Shirt
I'll 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, save your
Time to ill, I got mad to fill
Not a fake, I got styles than Drake's got Tasty Cakes

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

When we come in all de dance 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
Gal, will ya come slap up

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