Luyện nghe bài hát Slap Them Up

Tellin' it like it is, right about now D.J.
Is in the motherfuckin' house and
Ya know I'm sayin'? But yo, yo Kris, run that shit
Ya know what I'm sayin'? That, that shit, my
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, ya come slap them up
When we come in all de dance 'nuff D.J.'s up, woy
Ill will, slap up

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

Lyrics make bigger holes hollow tips
another rapper body get stiff
Just like in church, we the basket
As I over 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 you're get off the pot
Let the original rapper the spot
You stand 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 along and 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 battle KRS
I bet the minute you get home 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
None of my styles you can get 'em
Still um, will um, your come get some 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 play no games, come straight to your 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 kill you kid, God forbid
Greed will your need to succeed
But your speed, your

Your outreach is a breach of I teach
For lyrical you're a leech
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, you get it together
Call me, here's my
the list, you lack breath control, mental behavior
Lyrical talent, imagination and

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

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

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

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