Luyện nghe bài hát Spot Rusherz

*sounds of the street, St. Ide's commercial is in the background*
(this is a best guess on what's heard underneath Rae's conversation)
[Ghostface] the Wallabe kid, dress down, could never be Son
Ricochet daily hit the for a cold one
May I be blessed My mic is like a laser beam
that blow between the bushes, St. Ide's and I the of things
[Cappadon] Crack the bottle of the St. Ide's, sippin it's
and thrillin will I, drink it and we
too be dope, you can't die, peoples do lie
And if the street know, you're full of slang cane pain
It was hot, on the spot, so I jetted up the block
I said, ock, I'm hot, let's go sit on the bay by the
of the black, I'm fully packed, got my Trojan
Heads got bottles open, fill my cup till

All that shit

KnowhatI'msayin, you in, you come in lookin flavorful

YouknowhatImean? You the whole of the whole night
But I've it though, knowhatI'msayin? Like I seen it
You know, my G is too for that shit, knowhatI'msayin?
Word, did you try to get a little kid on?
Tried to man, youknowhatI'msayin, but she was pullin off


Just pullin off her as her drawers

Fuck that bitch though, Shoulda, on the real
Yo yo tonight feel like a nigga gonna get
Yeah
It's like you something tomorrow right
Some like yo, blahzay
the wind, I'm tellin you
Yeah yeah
the air, I can feel it
It feel hot, it feel feel hot at night and like
the sun even out
Yo the sun shine nobody, knowhatI'msayin?

Lyrics:

One-two, one-two,
for line, line for line
How we get down wit da
Yo, it be a line for line, for line
This is how we get
Yeah, line for line, for line
This is how we get

Yo! Can you me?
Storytellin rap I ain't tellin
Them niggaz ran in the for sellin
Word up, pushed up, man got up
Seen him at a rap show actin like fat cat
Glasses gold, like a real big boy
This nigga had mega ice on Ahoy!
Cat surrounded, this brown kid
All out the yo, my man walked in
mints out son had mad clientele
Order me Cristal Kion, chill!
Watch them niggaz, that clique's from outta state
They bubble weight in Far Rockaway Blake Carrington
You the kid with the most doe-getters
And on fat shit clique they rock Lo sweaters
my man, that's my man too
Call him up on the of the Wu
And watch me game, yo the cell
I got a to pull off well
At the end of the week, I'm you a L
Lexus nigga, I talkin bout Hancock
No time for weed plus no to get locked
That night, up in the
had me laced out, skeed all outta my face
We gon' get dat cruchy chump for all of his
Don't try to front, you was this Hilfidiger
Guess who walked in - Abbott and his man Farragut
Confront him wit the on his back, walk in black
Where's your man, where's the sky blue at?
Stop playin Wu in the back, him wit the gat
(Yo, said he be here in fifteen!)
Stop lyin, for the Millenia green to pull up
He got the Karen shit on, two rings
Six carats a piece plus the chain
Like anchors on ships flooded wit all diamond
Back pockets: two - four-fifths wit rubber grips
Layin, two bottles of I was slayin
Meditatin, red dot be waitin for my
Heard the key in the lock, cocked the
Turn the lights out, dip behind the
Kion, gag his
Infra-redded his when he entered
But a soft Perry Ellis leather with
A friend of, Kion's wife, Kenya, the bitch than life
Yo, shorty be mad Columbian niggaz
it, get on the floor meet the black Lex Luthor
Stripped fast, the bitch had on drawers
Yo Rae, you about to her, chill Ghost
for a second, turned around
Threw the in his meatloaf
Yo, where's the cash and the that's mixed?
I know!
Shot his hand, he screamin like a bitch!