Luyện nghe bài hát Soundman

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

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

Sorta similar to the way I remember to be the
Pharoahe, gift to vocabulary
My personal be killin' me softly
Still I be packin' artillery, y'all feelin' me

Props don't stop here,
I knock MC's out of a six-sided
My be tragedy to MC's
Who receive from rap academies

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

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

Done the disco fluid, duh, duh
But if it loud enough
We tell the soundman, turn that up, up, up
C'mon,

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

Very visual, every slide
Is spiritually projected, inside
Never to hide but to shine like diamonds mines
Let ass marinate and Poe free flows over basslines

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

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

Set it straight, online, programmed to climb
You might me in The Grind
bumpin' a dime
Now let me you how we do it
(Yeah, yeah)

With that old fluid
(Uh, huh)
And if it ain't enough
the soundman to turn that shit up
Up, up, up
(Up, up)

If it, uh, it

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

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

I last, the mass, gettin' the cash
But in the fast before the stock market crash
Splash, quarts of straight water fortified
First to get this partyin' on

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

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

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

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

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

And scams are so
Tracks are trash to me, nigga
platinum plaque should even go back to the factory
People wanna be like Michael and

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

for bein' so anti-climac, tic
Watch any mack get, put on his with
tactics utilized without practice

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

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