Luyện nghe bài hát Soundman

Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes
Yo, Mr. Soundman, we would much appreciate it
(Yes indeed)
If you add a tad bit more
And a little lows to the mic
(Word up)

I'm on mic one, Prince is on mic number two
(Yes, yes, yes)
A little bit more but right, right, there, yeah
One more, c'mon, uhh
(Recognize)
C'mon, right, yes, yes, here, uhh, c'mon, down

Sorta to the way I remember to be the Wordsmith
Pharoahe, gift to vocabulary
My personal soliloquies be me softly
Still I be packin' artillery, y'all me yet?

Props don't here, nigga
I knock MC's out of a figure
My strategies be to MC's
Who receive certificates from rap

I'm terrific wordplay
(Wordplay)
Specific with verbs, say we step it up to the next
See if I God
all my competition is exclusively Lucifer

See y'all used to the niggaz who would say devil
(Right)
But I ain't them, they me
(Nah, uh, huh)
With some college-ass rappin' degree
But let me you how we do it, duh, duh, duh

Done the disco fluid, duh, duh
But if it ain't loud
We tell the soundman, turn shit up, up, up
C'mon,

Yo, Pharoahe, hold up, hold up, it
Let me introduce
I'm Senor El Chocolate, de la creme, a la cheddy
Prince Poe, God's gift to

Very visual, every lyrical
Is projected, forever inside
Never to hide but to shine diamonds inside mines
Let that ass marinate and Poe flows over basslines

I'm takin' to next
Plateaus, rippin' shows with cosmic sex
Love on CD's and and DAT's
(Now all rise)
Now who masters the Funk when it's to Flex?
(Organized)

the Southside, spar chump MC's
Thinkin' they comp, but soon to get smoked trees
I eat MC's of all kinds, out the rhyme
Regurgitate their mindstate 'cause I don't eat

Set it straight, online, internet programmed to
You catch me in The Grind
Straight a dime
Now let me you how we do it
(Yeah, yeah)

With old disco fluid
(Uh, huh)
And if it loud enough
Tell the soundman to turn that up
Up, up, up
(Up, up)

If it, uh, it

(Turn me up now, ooh, ohh, yeah)
(Ooh, ooh, ooh, ohh, ooh, ooh)

Tinted V8, buck and a half on the
All weather Pirellis, the color is cash
Black leather, Nakamichi system to blast
Full metal to the pedal when we on that ass

I last, amongst the mass, gettin' the
But in the stash fast before the stock market
Splash, five quarts of straight fortified
First place to get partyin' on

In any or on the corner in the box with pops
In barbershops, got with it in hoopties, some in drop-tops
Look at love-love, with this top-notch
Boombastic, ghetto now, fly gymnastics of passion

With verbal toxic, shit
(Daily, mmm)
The soul up in the cockpit
Lock with my robotic optic
You ain't fuckin' with this propher, who's too Stop it

(Hey, Mr.
Can you me, juice me up?)

I'm sendin' in yo face, spinnin' them quick wit'
Synonym them in wit', homynyms entered in
And by embalmin' them wit', shit, whenever I
No need for me to go, get old hit, records to go gold

Yo shit with no innovation whatsoever
You and all mens not clever
Y'all to be told that shit
You ain't bold plans of promotional schemes

And scams are so
are trash to me, nigga actually
Your plaque should even go back to the factory
wanna be like Michael and when

Recyclin' when the fans wanna Fresh Material
imperial rap pros who Organize
Gettin' very intolerant at rap shows like
In fact those that act up get smacked

Backwards for so anti-climac, tic
Watch any mack get, put on his with
Lyrical tactics utilized practice

is how we do it, duh, duh, duh
(Yeah, yeah)
Done with the fluid, duh, duh
(Uh, huh)

But if it loud enough
Say if it ain't enough
Say if it ain't enough
We tell the soundman turn motherfuckin' volume up, nigga