Luyện nghe bài hát Spraypaint & Ink Pens

Fort Minor,
Minor, Minor, Minor...

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

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

Yo, I paint pictures, I'm the hood's best storyteller
This about a young boy with the older fellas
him the lives you see on TV
He ran packs across town rhyme CD's
And big chains, new clothes, and Reeboks
Stacking too much loot to in a shoe box
Saving, he promised his mom a in Atlanta
And his pops got through 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 they scream "This is a bust"
"Is it a set up?", it seems funny, a scuffle 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, spraypaint and ink
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 think this man knew what he had in store
He the door and found 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 shop
Scoping the lot, hoping the cops hadn't the plates on his car
He felt like he been hustling so hard like a demon he pumped a heart
it cool like Humphrey 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 money and the ring in a exhale
Two went by, got a box in the mail
In the box was a made of gold
Melted down from the ring, recast two rings and a band
And he stared at it sitting in the palm of his
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 week she died
As he looked in the reflection, at eyes so red
He put the bullet in a gun and put it in his head like that

Uh, spraypaint and ink
I use to in every 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 enough power in his thrusters to muster Warp 5
Plus if he pushed it, the fuel cells rupture then 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 started to cry, but he knew if he could 'em
He could buy her some time and she could it out alive
Turn the suit and got prepared for the stand off
Space had blew one of the hands off
Damaged laser cannons and he got the jammed
And he faced the whole fleet, seeping through his teeth
The final in the seven planet wars
Unsheethed the sword and he charged forward
His eyes behind the cracked cockpit glass
He let out a laugh and then all she heard was a like

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

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

Uh, and ink pens

It's an expression out of a simple can of paint
Look, it's the easiest way for the average kid to paint 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 true