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, Thug & Fister

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

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

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

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

(Ali)
Up next, we got that heartthrob
Fo' Reel, Penelope!!!

(Penelope)
Hot like fire, these niggas yearn
Don't be stressin' me dirty, you got shit to
How to keep these seven zeroes my only concern
Put a torch to these hoes, make these bitches
Stern, as I handle my grit, mo' shit
Spit, and let my fo-fo rip, so bitch don't
make 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 Luna-chic? Uh huh, I'm a bitch
deadly than the venom that some anacondas spit
The Marilyn Monroe, of the
I'm a sucker for cornrows, niggas in hey
(I got old mama, let me, let me, can I hit that?)
Oh Lord, look nigga (C'mon 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 like ice in the chain
so who am I? I'm the best to ever spit
I got that, "Hot Shit" like I'm and the Tics
I pop a hot block dodge the and the dics
Cause they want me gone, been in the game too
Here's how you want it, you with guns nigga
We cock two, got work? I too
one, we pop two
For the for my family, and my seed
Makin' sure them records live on, now until infinity
I'm from the 34, in 3D
Southsiiiiiiide, hot boy I'm Figi
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 Trife, up next
The one and Mic Checker!!!

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

(Ali)
One to PL-Spin
Naw you know, up Boogee Mann!!!

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

(Ali)
What up Spud? Up next V.I.P.
King Jacob and Chi!!!

(Suga Chi)
Microphones I burn bitches to it may concern with this
Gotta this is to all my foes
baby mommas swervin' Neons and Geos
Cause nigros to peep my steelo
In a ??? ready for war, suited and
Undisputed dame, been the same, in the
my Tenants had fat laces, smack faces
With Tipsy (Ouch) feel it bitch
You gettin' thrown out of clubs ever you see me.

(King Jacob)
Uugh, want to be street
Guaranteed 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 them punk ass niggas from click
I fuck hoes be so thick, when I roll you know this
And them twenty inch chrome sit so sick
Motorola shit for communication, this is to aid my
Take the whole nation.

(Ali)
Iceberg!!!

(Iceberg)
It's the nigga the player keeps it duplicated
Or faded in no of way, hate it if you like
But you can't stop us paid
Unless you the stage, or drop us in a place we stand
And then you to worry bout your whole state
We made it now the forever more
Style be forever raw, or hell
stay forever S-T-L
Catch me down baby, in a black Humvee
Comin' to get my fuckin' back 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 bomb frees
Bigger Big Lee released all beats
And everytime we do fuckin' million ???
And come to answer question of how come I-C-E-B-G
Gon part of this Alumni nigga

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

(Foundation)
You never met a four, better metaphors
Metal for whores, Tiger's metal four
Shit, that's what I met her for, city
Thick cliques with Big Lee
disturb, stand clap hands dance and swerve
For the spot nobody else should fix a hand or word
E-Perior bless, since we all mic checks
You guess me on, Midwest be songs, and testin'
F with the best be gone, no
yard parties, fourty-four-four
Seventy and East, don't get it F in streets
Style like sandals, pumps get handled
Dismantled, St. is Tony Soprano
No two, heffers with poor, ghetto mo' gurr
Blow bolo get around the clock.

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

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

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

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

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

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

(Fister)
I'm the man before time, hands before time
Don Bluth I made The Land Before Time
Some MC's they're nice, but not hardly
That's what they "Say Say Say" like McArtney
And Michael Jackson, I the action
To anyone who assists John Packson
Who these kids think they is tryin' to act all
They temporary members of Destiny's Child
I'm spottin' the top Feds, the hot lead
All in his pothead, him drop dead
me Shanksoon, lyrically snatchin' your soul
Your useless, like the right arm on Bob Dole
Behold, the of a black Aristotle
Roadkillin' MC's, with my on the throttle
Smashin' em all, mashin' em all, em all
Picked up my Friday cashin' em all