Luyện nghe bài hát Spraypaint & Ink Pens

Fort Minor,
Minor, Minor, Minor...

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

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

Yo, I verbally paint pictures, I'm the hood's storyteller
This about a young boy dealing with the older
him the lives you see on TV
He ran packs across like rhyme CD's
And big chains, new clothes, and Reeboks
Stacking too much to squeeze in a shoe 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 cases
No cross-town, now he's crossing them states and
new faces, not knowing who to trust
So when the door kicked open scream "This is a bust"
"Is it a set up?", it seems funny, a broke out
He got hit, the cases spitting blood out of his mouth
He walked four to die trying to survive
And now all that's is his mom screaming "God Why?"

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

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

Uh, and ink pens
I use to write in every I think in
To paint a with every rhyme that I speak in
Yeah, the gallery is the then 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 it, the fuel cells could rupture then they would die
the galaxy would suffer but he knew he had to try
But he risk it, put the cure in the escape pod and kissed it
And told her goodbye, she to cry, but he knew if he could distract 'em
He could buy her time and she could make it out alive
Turn the suit around and got for the stand off
Space had blew one of the hands off
laser cannons and he got the system jammed
And he the whole fleet, blood seeping through his teeth
The final in the seven planet wars
Unsheethed the and then he charged forward
His eyes behind the cracked cockpit glass
He let out a laugh and all she heard was a blast like

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

Yeah, and gentlemen
This has a Fort Minor production
Ghostface! Fiasco!

Uh, spraypaint and ink

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