Luyện nghe bài hát Spraypaint & Ink Pens

Fort Minor,
Minor, Minor, Minor...

Uh, and ink pens
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...

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

Yo, I verbally paint pictures, I'm the hood's best
This about a young boy dealing with the 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 to squeeze in a shoe box
Saving, he promised his mom a 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 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, dropped the cases spitting out of his mouth
He walked four blocks to die trying to
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 with every rhyme that I speak in
Yeah, the gallery is the beat I... I... I... I...

Yeah, yeah, let me by saying "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 found the bag 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 seen the on his car
He felt like he been hustling so like a demon he pumped a cold heart
Play it cool like Bogart, put the rings on his chain attached by both parts
He did the drop, one ring in a bag, envelope, all the he had
Left the and the ring in a slow exhale
Two weeks by, got a box in the mail
In the box was a bullet made of
Melted down from the ring, recast 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 wife in the picture on his
With the ring on the finger on the week that she
As he looked in the reflection, at eyes so red
He put the in a gun and put it right in his head like that

Uh, and ink pens
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...
Uh, yeah, uh

Fiasco!

You know he didn't have enough power in his thrusters to Warp 5
Plus if he pushed it, the fuel cells could rupture they would die
the galaxy would suffer but he knew he had to try
But he couldn't risk it, put the cure in the escape pod and it
And her goodbye, she started to cry, but he knew if he could distract 'em
He could buy her some time and she 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 faced the whole fleet, seeping through his teeth
The final in the seven planet wars
Unsheethed the sword and then he forward
His eyes flashed the cracked cockpit glass
He let out a laugh and then all she heard was a like

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

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

Uh, and ink pens

It's an expression 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 gonna get the gallery there soon, man
Why? I'm not be famous one day
Why do you say that?
Cause it's