Luyện nghe bài hát Spraypaint & Ink Pens

Fort Minor,
Minor, Minor, Minor...

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

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

Yo, I verbally pictures, I'm the hood's best storyteller
This about a 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, Nikes and
Stacking too much loot to in a shoe box
Saving, he his mom a crib in Atlanta
And his pops got killed debt, he was a dealer
So he jazz, fox jump off the suit cases
No more cross-town, now he's crossing them and
Seeing new faces, not who to trust
So when the door open they scream "This is a bust"
"Is it a set up?", it seems funny, a scuffle out
He got hit, dropped the cases blood out of his mouth
He walked four blocks to die to survive
And now all left is his mom screaming "God Why?"

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

Yeah, yeah, let me by saying "Shut the fuck up!"
Let my begin by saying I don't think this man knew what he had in
He opened the door and the bag under the floor
Not a peep, working a lot, get the flame, aim, pop
Open the box and off out the back of the pawn shop
Scoping the lot, hoping the cops seen the plates on his car
He felt like he been hustling so hard like a 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
Left the money and the ring in a exhale
Two weeks by, got a box in the mail
In the box was a made of gold
Melted down the ring, recast with two rings and a band
And he at it sitting 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 on the week that 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 write in every color I in
To a picture with 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 cells could rupture then they would die
Then the would suffer but he knew he had to try
But he couldn't it, put the cure in the escape pod and kissed it
And told her goodbye, she started to cry, but he knew if he distract 'em
He buy her some time and she could make it out alive
Turn the suit around and got for the stand off
Space mind had blew one of the off
Damaged laser and he got the system jammed
And he faced the whole fleet, blood through his teeth
The final saga in the planet wars
Unsheethed the and then he charged forward
His eyes flashed 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 color I in
To paint a with every rhyme that I speak in
Yeah, the is the beat then I... I... I... I...

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

Uh, spraypaint and ink

an expression coming 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 say that?
Cause true