Luyện nghe bài hát Spraypaint & Ink Pens

Fort Minor,
Minor, Minor, Minor...

Uh, and ink pens
I use to write in every color I in
To paint a picture every rhyme that I speak in
Yeah, the is the beat then I... I... I... I...

Yes, and gentlemen
We have a special guest for you evening
Ghost, you

Yo, I verbally pictures, I'm the hood's best storyteller
about a young boy dealing with the older fellas
Promised him the you see on TV
He ran across town like rhyme CD's
And big chains, new clothes, Nikes and
Stacking too much loot to squeeze in a box
Saving, he his mom a crib in Atlanta
And his pops got killed debt, he was a dealer
So he staged jazz, fox jump off the suit
No more cross-town, now he's them states and
new faces, not knowing who to trust
So when the door kicked open they "This is a bust"
"Is it a set up?", it funny, a scuffle broke out
He got hit, dropped the cases blood out of his mouth
He walked four blocks to die to survive
And now all that's left is his mom "God Why?"

Uh, spraypaint and ink
I use to write in color I think in
To paint a picture every rhyme that I speak in
Yeah, the gallery is the then I... I... I... I...

Yeah, yeah, let me by saying "Shut the fuck up!"
Let my begin by I don't think this man knew what he had in store
He opened the door and the bag under the floor
Not a peep, working a lot, get the flame, aim, pop
the box and take off out the back of the pawn shop
Scoping the lot, hoping the cops hadn't the plates on his car
He felt like he been hustling so like a demon he pumped a cold heart
Play it cool like Humphrey Bogart, put the rings on his attached by both parts
He did the drop, one ring in a bag, envelope, all the he had
Left the money and the in a slow exhale
Two weeks went by, got a box in the
In the box was a bullet of gold
Melted down the ring, recast with two rings and a band
And he stared at it in the palm of his hand
And sat next to a picture that sat on the nightstand
It was his in the picture on his side
With the ring on the finger on the that she died
As he in the reflection, at those eyes so red
He put the bullet in a gun and put it right in his like that

Uh, spraypaint and ink
I use to write in color I think in
To paint a picture with rhyme that I speak in
Yeah, the gallery is the beat I... I... I... I...
Uh, yeah, uh

Fiasco!

You know he didn't have power in his thrusters to muster Warp 5
Plus if he pushed it, the fuel cells could rupture they would die
Then the galaxy would but he knew he had to try
But he couldn't it, put the cure in the escape pod and kissed it
And told her goodbye, she started to cry, but he if he could distract 'em
He buy her some time and she could make it out alive
Turn the suit around and got prepared for the off
Space mind had blew one of the off
Damaged laser cannons and he got the jammed
And he faced the whole fleet, blood through his teeth
The final saga in the seven planet
Unsheethed the sword and then he forward
His eyes flashed behind the cockpit glass
He let out a laugh and all she heard was a blast like

Uh, and ink pens
I use to in every color I think in
To a picture with every rhyme that I speak in
Yeah, the gallery is the beat I... I... I... I...

Yeah, ladies and
This has been a Fort production
Ghostface! Fiasco!

Uh, spraypaint and ink

an expression coming out of a simple can of paint
Look, the easiest way for the average kid to paint things using himself as the meaning of it
You get into the gallery there soon, man
Why? I'm not be famous one day
Why do you always say
Cause it's