Luyện nghe bài hát Spraypaint & Ink Pens

Fort Minor,
Minor, Minor, Minor...

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 is the beat then 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 young boy with the older fellas
him the lives you see on TV
He ran packs across town like rhyme
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 got killed through debt, he was a dealer
So he staged jazz, fox jump off the cases
No more cross-town, now he's them states and
new faces, not knowing who to trust
So when the door kicked open they "This is a bust"
"Is it a set up?", it seems funny, a scuffle out
He got hit, dropped the spitting blood out of his mouth
He walked four to die trying to survive
And now all that's left is his mom "God Why?"

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 then I... I... I... I...

Yeah, yeah, let me begin by "Shut the fuck up!"
Let my begin by I don't think this man knew what he had in store
He opened the door and found the bag under the
Not a peep, always a lot, get the flame, aim, pop
Open the box and take off out the back of the shop
the lot, hoping the cops hadn't seen the plates on his car
He felt like he been hustling so hard a demon he pumped a cold heart
Play it 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 and the ring in a slow exhale
Two went by, got a box in the mail
In the box was a bullet made of
Melted down the ring, recast with two rings and a band
And he stared at it sitting in the palm of his
And sat down next to a picture sat on the nightstand
It was his in the picture on his side
With the ring on the finger on the 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 like that

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

Fiasco!

You he didn't have enough power in his thrusters to muster Warp 5
if he pushed it, the fuel cells 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 pod and kissed it
And told her goodbye, she started to cry, but he knew if he could 'em
He could buy her some and she could make it out alive
the suit around and got prepared for the stand off
Space had blew one of the hands off
Damaged cannons and he got the system jammed
And he faced the whole fleet, blood through his teeth
The final in the seven planet wars
Unsheethed the sword and then he forward
His eyes flashed behind the cracked cockpit
He let out a laugh and then all she was a blast like

Uh, and ink pens
I use to write in 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, ladies and
This has been a Fort Minor
Ghostface! Fiasco!

Uh, and ink pens

It's an expression coming out of a can of paint
Look, it's the easiest way for the average kid to paint things himself as the meaning of it
You gonna get into the gallery soon, man
Why? I'm not be famous one day
Why do you always say
it's true