Luyện nghe bài hát Spraypaint & Ink Pens

Fort Minor,
Minor, Minor, Minor...

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

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

Yo, I verbally pictures, I'm the hood's best storyteller
This about a young boy dealing with the older
Promised him the you see on TV
He ran across town like 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 killed debt, he was a dealer
So he staged jazz, fox jump off the cases
No more cross-town, now crossing them states and
Seeing new faces, not knowing who to
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, 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, and ink pens
I use to write in every color I in
To paint a picture with every rhyme that I in
Yeah, the gallery is the then I... I... I... I...

Yeah, yeah, let me begin by saying "Shut the up!"
Let my begin by saying I don't think this man knew what he had in
He opened the door and found the bag under the
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 he been hustling so hard like a demon he pumped a cold heart
Play it cool like Humphrey Bogart, put the rings on his chain attached by 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 went by, got a box in the mail
In the box was a made of gold
Melted down from the ring, recast with two rings and a
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 in the picture on his side
With the ring on the on the week that she died
As he looked in the reflection, at those so red
He put the bullet in a gun and put it right in his head like

Uh, spraypaint and ink
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 have enough power in his thrusters to muster Warp 5
Plus if he pushed it, the fuel could rupture then they would die
Then the galaxy suffer but he knew he had to try
But he couldn't risk it, put the cure in the escape pod and 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 prepared for the off
Space mind had one of the hands off
Damaged laser cannons and he got the jammed
And he faced the whole fleet, blood through his teeth
The final saga in the seven planet
Unsheethed the sword and he charged forward
His eyes flashed the cracked cockpit glass
He let out a and then all she heard was a blast like

Uh, spraypaint and ink
I use to write in 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, and gentlemen
This has been a Minor production
Ghostface! Fiasco!

Uh, spraypaint and ink

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