Luyện nghe bài hát Spraypaint & Ink Pens

Fort Minor,
Minor, Minor, Minor...

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

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

Yo, I verbally 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 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 got killed through debt, he was a dealer
So he staged jazz, fox jump off the suit
No more cross-town, now he's crossing states and
new faces, not knowing who to trust
So when the kicked open they scream "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 four blocks to die trying to survive
And now all that's is his mom screaming "God Why?"

Uh, spraypaint and ink
I use to in every color I think in
To paint a picture with every rhyme that I 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 don't 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 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
the money and the ring in a slow exhale
Two weeks by, got a box in the mail
In the box was a bullet 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 to a picture that sat on the nightstand
It was his wife in the picture on his
the ring on the finger on the week 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 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 then I... I... I... I...
Uh, yeah, uh

Fiasco!

You know he didn't have enough in his thrusters to muster Warp 5
Plus if he pushed it, the fuel cells could rupture then would die
Then the would 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 and she could make it out alive
Turn the suit and got prepared for the stand off
mind had blew one of the hands off
Damaged laser cannons and he got the system
And he faced the whole fleet, blood seeping his teeth
The final saga in the seven planet
the sword and then he charged forward
His eyes flashed behind the cracked cockpit
He let out a laugh and then all she heard was a blast

Uh, and ink pens
I use to write in every 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 Minor
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?
Cause it's