Luyện nghe bài hát St. Louis Alumni (Bonus Track)

* Jewely, M.K., Penelope, Kujo, Mic Checker, Boogee Mann, Chi,
King Jacob, Iceberg, Foundation, Storm, West Stone, Goobee Thug &

(Intro: Ali)
Check it out, my is Ali
I with them Lunatics
You know us, know I'm sayin'
But what you not know
Is we got a lot of MC's in St.
So we do it like this
up we got my man Jewely!!!

(Jewely)
Now what's a finale
If you ain't drinkin' grams in Cali? El Caminos on
Hotel Nico Mona, weed from Pamona
And any ghetto catch this St. Louis nigga on the
My known to leave rappers in a coma
So faggotts the grinnin', them chrome rims reflect
The hate in your as you see em spinnin'
MC's are screamin', "No mo' shoutouts" through nine
I'm drama, like two baby and one pendin'
This here split up your vest, cause the shit I'm packin' Dawg'll
your heart out your chest
Rappers suffer from arrest
If I'm uncomfortable I a few
You niggas are actin' like, I won't em to the afterlife
is Judah Zor, a hard act to follow
Murderous clique nigga, as desperado.

(Ali)
Up next, Hillsdale
My M.K.!!!

(M.K.)
You knew what time it was as you stepped in the door
gigglin' and pointin', and whisperin', "There he go!"
Where he go? Me I be between the ice
Don P with a dime piece right!
Whisperin' in my ear about menage a
Us and her partners, El Passe and bras
Freaky deaky baby I'm that
Dig the way you think, them your partners?
Get them a drink, shit one bitch was
she didn't get picked, but baby
We roll time, it's only rippin' the six, trick
Minutes later nigga four deep
bitches tonguin' in the back
I'm gettin' some head up in the
She like, "I got this" you control the
While her partners in the sixety-ninin' tradin' cock spit.

(Ali)
Up next, we got that hazel-eyed
Fo' Reel, Penelope!!!

(Penelope)
Hot like fire, makin' these yearn
be stressin' me dirty, you got shit to learn
How to keep these seven zeroes that's my only
Put a torch to hoes, make these bitches burn
Stern, as I handle my grit, talk mo'
Spit, and let my fo-fo rip, so bitch slip
Don't me put a lump on your lip
A dip in your hip, I'm snatchin' shit
I it all so give me it
Am I a Uh huh, I'm a looney bitch
More deadly than the that some anacondas spit
The Marilyn Monroe, of the
I'm a sucker for cornrows, in Timbos hey
(I got old mama, let me, let me, can I hit that?)
Oh Lord, look (C'mon mama let me hit that)
Get the fuck on out of my face talkin' all
Old ass bullshit.

(Ali)
Up next, Kujo!!!

(Kujo)
Niggas hate me cause I'm nice in the
And got a style priceless ice in the chain
Aiyyo so who am I? I'm the best to ever
I got that, "Hot Shit" I'm Nelly and the Tics
I pop a hot block dodge the and the dics
Cause they me gone, been in the game too long
Here's how you want it, you with guns nigga
We cock two, got work? I too
one, we pop two
For the love for my family, and my
Makin' sure records live on, from now until infinity
I'm from the 34, in 3D
Southsiiiiiiide, hot boy like I'm
Spit the truth til I die, give a fuck you niggas of me
No matter what the fuck you do
You get rid of me.

(Ali)
Peace, to my cousin Trife, up
The one and Mic Checker!!!

(Mic Checker)
St. Louis, what you know bout high-grade we it?
you know bout 76 pounds to break down in the basement?
What you bout chances enough Air Course
Suitcases and pretty pictures out in Air Port?
What you know bout losin' count there's so many stacks?
How many can say shit like this
But truth in the tracks?
What you know bout clicked up nigga? Out the country
How you niggas done had pussy from the Virgin Islands?
What you know bout your broad to be my mama?
Lunatics and Skunk dick up in Trulany
you know bout mo' bail? We brolic like Brutis
Come for them, everyday and my clique's all
What you know bout Town? Amongst the gun clappers
Buff they soup head still on my red snapper.

(Ali)
One love to
Naw you know, up next Mann!!!

(Boogee Mann)
Mr. B-double-O-G what? M-A-double-N
I smoke and grin, and fuck your best friend
if she a ten, then I slide right in
Boogee and DJ Spin, be and lightenin'
Damn that's frightenin, so tuck vest in
My Mack-10, spit flows that kill men
the Midwest y'all, we aimin' at all y'all
We the ball til we or it's nothin' at all
So just warm up the water, cause we Blink Trotter
Half-baked half slaughter, comin' Vince Carter
How you want it head or cut? We in the of the truck
to see if baby girl can make me bust this nut
Cause I'm 24 inches above the gun
Get these hoes deep, so you yo heat.

(Ali)
What up Up next representin' V.I.P.
Jacob and Suga Chi!!!

(Suga Chi)
Microphones I burn to whom it may concern with this
learn this is to all my foes
Them baby mommas swervin' and Geos
Cause they nigros to my steelo
In a ??? ready for war, and booted
Undisputed dame, the same, in the game
Since my had fat laces, smack faces
With Tipsy (Ouch) intoxicated feel it
You thrown out of clubs ever time you see me.

(King Jacob)
Uugh, want to be street
they bring the most heat
And swear to God ain't nothin'
I agree, but I also feel I got to prove shit
To do it to punk ass niggas from your click
I fuck hoes that be so thick, when I roll you this
And them twenty inch chrome rims sit so
Motorola for communication, this is to aid my flows
Take the whole nation.

(Ali)
Iceberg!!!

(Iceberg)
the nigga the player that keeps it duplicated
Or in no type of way, hate it if you like
But you can't us gettin' paid
Unless you sabotage the stage, or drop us in a we stand
And then you to worry bout your whole state
We made it now the forever more
Style be raw, heaven or hell
I'll stay forever
me down down baby, in a black Humvee
Comin' to get my fuckin' corner for Nelly, (E.I.!)
My fuckin' record sales barely, (Uh Ohhhhhhhhh!)
Now nothin' they can tell me
What I do is always too late, for the
See how you fools respond to these bomb
Big Lee released all these beats
And everytime we do what's fuckin' ???
And come to their question of how come I-C-E-B-G
Gon become part of this Alumni

(Ali)
All the way from the we got my man E
(Louie Town) Foundation!!!

(Foundation)
You never met a four, with metaphors
Metal for whores, Tiger's metal four
Shit, that's what I met her for, strictly
Thick cliques mixed Big Lee
Can't disturb, stand clap hands dance and
For the where nobody else should fix a hand or word
E-Perior bless, we all wreck mic checks
You guess me on, Midwest be songs, and testin'
F with the be gone, no quest-ion
yard parties, fourty-four-four
Seventy West and East, get it F in streets
Style shows like sandals, get handled
Dismantled, St. Louis is Soprano
No two, with blow poor, ghetto mo' gurr
Blow bolo get fooled the clock.

(Ali)
Up next, we got two MC's
My man Storm and his home' Stone.

(Storm)
You can't fuck with Storm, six in the truck with Storm
You want to jack him, but you won't got no luck Storm
My run with dirty niggas and he from St. Lou
he know Kung-Fu, and he got guns too
That big dick dude, that flip fools like Tom Cruise
You wanna battle me dude you gon' lose
Hit you with one-two's, lungs bruised
My foot in the so many crews call me doo-doo shoes.

(West Stone)
You know Stone is known to break them
your chick and take her home
Get one chick and make her
And you wonder why niggas hate the Stone
Broke their backs, I wrote the raps
Nigga don't drink I'll to that
Niggas hopin' that, I'll a bow
Want to my life? Better take it now
I'm alive let me break it down
Turn this to the O.K. Corral
Get to blastin', whippin'
Forget talk shit, I'm with the action
Want to it hot? I'ma bring the heat
Ain't no nigga that can hang me.

(Ali)
Up we got Goobee Thug
The spitter!!!

(Goobee Thug)
We gon' get two seats recline and lean
X, smoke green, and buy the water
Y'all niggas your jewels to bling harder
I cock the fifth, drop your shit
Type of nigga rob you to cop the
Catch me, on 23's with a
See the rocks twinkle right in front of your eyes
I shine brighter the sun in the skies
Got a gun on my waist, got one in eye
And I stays blowin' haze and that Thai
Y'all smoke weed that's brown with seeds in it
I hustle from first to first through
And you gotta accept this, I ball the Celtics
A. Walker, you up
And I Ted Foster to make you up.

(Ali)
Up next from the Rawkus
My Fister!!!

(Fister)
I'm the man before time, move before time
Like Don Bluth I made The Land Before
Some MC's they're nice, but not hardly
That's what they "Say Say Say" like Paul
And Michael Jackson, I cypher the
To anyone who assists like John
Who these kids they is tryin' to act all wild
They like members of Destiny's Child
I'm spottin' the top Feds, poppin' the hot
All in his pothead, makin' him dead
me Shanksoon, lyrically snatchin' your soul
Your squad's useless, like the right arm on Bob
Behold, the of a black Aristotle
Roadkillin' MC's, my hand on the throttle
Smashin' em all, em all, bashin' em all
Picked up my Friday cashin' em all