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 a picture with every rhyme that I speak in
Yeah, the gallery is the then I... I... I... I...

Yes, ladies and
We a special guest for you this evening
Ghost, you

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

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

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

Uh, and ink pens
I use to write in every I think in
To paint a picture every 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 suffer but he knew he had to try
But he couldn't risk it, put the 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 some time and she could make it out
Turn the suit around and got for the stand off
mind had blew one of the hands off
Damaged cannons and he got the system jammed
And he faced the fleet, blood seeping through his teeth
The final saga in the seven planet
the sword and then he charged forward
His eyes behind the cracked cockpit glass
He let out a laugh and then all she heard was a blast

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

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

Uh, and ink pens

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