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 mids
And a more lows to the mic
(Word up)

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

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

Props stop here, nigga
I knock MC's out of a six-sided
My strategies be to MC's
Who receive certificates rap academies

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

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

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

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

Very visual, lyrical slide
Is spiritually projected, inside
to hide but to shine like diamonds inside mines
Let that ass and Poe free flows over basslines

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

From the Southside, chump MC's
Thinkin' they comp, but soon to get smoked like
I eat of all kinds, spit out the rhyme
Regurgitate their mindstate 'cause I eat swine

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

With old disco fluid
(Uh, huh)
And if it loud enough
Tell the 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)

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

I last, amongst the mass, the cash
But in the stash fast before the stock crash
Splash, five quarts of water fortified
First place to get 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' this top-notch
Boombastic, ghetto now, fly gymnastics of passion

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

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

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

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

And are so wack
Tracks are trash to me, actually
Your platinum plaque should even go back to the
People wanna be Michael and when

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

Backwards for so anti-climac, tic
Watch any mack get, put on his with
Lyrical tactics utilized without

is how we do it, duh, duh, duh
(Yeah, yeah)
Done the disco 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 that volume up, nigga