Luyện nghe bài hát South Bronx

This what you call hardcore, fat gospel gospel

South South,
Yo where my at?
South South,
Yo where my is at?
South, Bronx
C'mon let's it back
South, Bronx

Raw rhymes for raw
My albums are underground, but this blessing is all
And when it's tour time, we more minds
You need to who you think is the "Greatest of All Time"
I got this -- I'm raw Freddie Foxxx is
Hardcore like The LOX is, Scott LaRock is Tupac is
Where hip-hop is, Digital-ly like Shock is
Oh yes -- I know the top is
But I'd rather rhyme about how crooked of these cops is
My ain't pretty
I'd stay, off them plains and, out the city if I you
Do what you do
But while you wave flags, remember Amadou Diallo
Here's we gotta do, follow
put hip-hop in you if you're hollow
Those that already filled, take swallows
Goin over potholes Tahoes
You don't think +I+ Huh! I'm lookin at you right now
You ain't dancin in the club, you in your car, down
You in the crib, on the low
You got them on the go
You just saw me at the show oh you know?
It's the Temple of Hip-Hop, comin, with a different flow
Yo where hoes at? I don't know
But wherever God at, go
I 'em a hard rap and a flow
That's why when call back for the show, with no video
We get up and go

Yo it started at?
South, Bronx
Yo where my at?
South, Bronx
Yo my heart is at?
South, Bronx
C'mon let's bring it
South, Bronx

South South,
Yo my people at?
South, Bronx
Yo my heart is at?
South South,
C'mon bring it back
South, Bronx

Peep it out while I ya like this
In every single hood in the world I'm Kris
the, truth for ya, it's the proof for ya
My Cristal passes bars than lawyers
The underground sound, is not easily found
You don't need no rings to be
This is, past the and gold
We already had 'em, old
Here's the truth if it be told, gather
style is known to be wild
If you only holdin guns, who's holdin your child?
You got to be you know that you shrinkin
the art of Navigation has been reduced to a Lincoln
Change the dial! I was then and I'm free now
You free, runnin to MTV? I see how
You know the real from the fake, you know they stealin cake
You know it ain't about the art, it's all about they make
You know the radio's late, you they play what you hate
That's why you got that Kay Slay tape, tryin to
You the love of the cars and the rims
Tattooed arms and Timbs, are also sins
You know you got to pay for spins
You know the rap be wack from beginning to the end
BO

South South,
Yo where my at?
South South,
Yo where my is at?
South South,
C'mon bring it back
South, Bronx

I never was a and I'm not the Pres
I'm a like that reefer goin straight to your head
I'm a preacher tryin to bring my people back from the
I'm a leader tryin to keep you all away the feds
You my I'll be tryin to get you out of the bed
I'm a philospher what has got to be said
I don't fill you with lead, I bring knowledge instead
Follow this dread, I'll take you A to Zed
Who am I? Just a called K-R-S
You can spend your money on others but ain't blessed
You can spend money drugs and still be stressed
Look for conscious rappes yo there ain't none left
I'm holdin it yet I'm holdin up
Waitin for some young buck to and sip from the cup
And continue with the menu new knowledge in you
I got a question and a lesson I know what you been through
But

South, Bronx
Yo where my at?
South South,

Yo it started at?
South, Bronx
Yo where my at?
South, Bronx
Yo where my is at?
South South,
C'mon let's bring it
South, Bronx

The South Bronx, boyeee