Luyện nghe bài hát South Bronx

This what you call hardcore, fat gospel street

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

Raw for raw times
My are underground, but this blessing is all mine
And when it's time, we open more minds
You need to who you think is the "Greatest of All Time"
I got this -- I'm raw like Freddie is
Hardcore like The LOX is, Scott LaRock is where is
Where hip-hop is, Underground like Shock is
Oh yes -- I where the top is
But I'd rather rhyme how crooked some of these cops is
My ain't pretty
I'd stay, off them and, out the city if I were you
Do you gotta do
But while you wave them flags, Amadou Diallo
what we gotta do, follow
I'll put hip-hop in you if hollow
Those already filled, still take swallows
Goin potholes with Tahoes
You don't think +I+ know? Huh! I'm at you right now
You ain't in the club, you in your car, sittin 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 whole flow
Yo where them hoes at? I know
But God at, I'ma go
I 'em a hard rap and a flow
why when they call back for the show, with no video
We get up and go

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

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

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

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

I never was a king and I'm not the
I'm a teacher like that goin straight to your head
I'm a preacher tryin to bring my back from the dead
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 fill you with lead, I bring that knowledge instead
Follow this dread, I'll you from A to Zed
Who am I? Just a scholar called
You can spend your on others but they ain't blessed
You can spend money drugs and still be stressed
around for conscious rappes yo there ain't none left
I'm it downbetter yet I'm holdin up
for some young buck to come and sip from the cup
And continue the menu puttin new knowledge in you
I got a question and a lesson cause I what you been through
But

South, Bronx
Yo my people at?
South, Bronx

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

The South Bronx, boyeee