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

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

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

(Jewely)
Now what's a grand
If you drinkin' grams in Cali? El Caminos on toners
Hotel Nico with Mona, from Pamona
And any ghetto catch this St. Louis on the corner
My persona known to leave rappers in a
So stop the grinnin', them chrome rims reflect
The hate in your face as you see em
MC's are screamin', "No mo' shoutouts" through nine
I'm drama, like two mommas and one pendin'
This here rapper up your vest, cause the shit I'm packin' Dawg'll
knock your out your chest
suffer from cardiac arrest
If I'm I dump a few
You niggas are actin' like, I send em to the afterlife
This is Zor, a hard act to follow
clique nigga, known as desperado.

(Ali)
Up next, Hillsdale
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!"
Where he go? Me I be loungin' the ice
Don P with a dime piece right!
Whisperin' in my ear about a trois
Us and her partners, El panties and bras
Freaky deaky baby I'm that
Dig the way that you think, your partners?
Get a drink, shit one bitch was strippin'
she didn't get picked, but baby
We roll with time, only rippin' the six, trick
Minutes nigga rollin' four deep
Them tonguin' in the back
I'm some head up in the frontseat
She like, "I got this" you the cockpit
While her partners in the back sixety-ninin' cock spit.

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

(Penelope)
Hot fire, makin' these niggas yearn
be stressin' me dirty, you got shit to learn
How to keep these seven that's my only concern
Put a torch to hoes, make these bitches burn
Stern, as I my grit, talk 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 your shit
I want it all so me it
Am I a Uh huh, I'm a looney bitch
More deadly than the venom that some anacondas
The Monroe, of the ghetto
I'm a sucker for cornrows, niggas in 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 all that
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
Aiyyo so who am I? I'm the to ever spit
I got that, "Hot Shit" like I'm and the Tics
I pop a hot block dodge the cops and the
Cause want me gone, been in the game too long
Here's how you want it, you come with guns
We cock two, got work? I too
one, we pop two
For the for my family, and my seed
Makin' sure them live on, from 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 sick 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 know bout high-grade we it?
What you know 76 pounds to break down in the basement?
What you bout chances enough Air Course
Suitcases and pictures out in Lambert Air Port?
What you know bout losin' count cause there's so stacks?
How many can say shit like this
But truth in the tracks?
What you know bout clicked up nigga? Out the country
How many you niggas done had pussy from the Virgin
you know bout 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, everyday and my all exclusive
What you know bout Spanish Town? the gun clappers
Buff they penis soup still on my red snapper.

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

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

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

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

(King Jacob)
Uugh, everybody to be street
Guaranteed they the most heat
And swear to God ain't nothin'
I agree, but I feel I ain't 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 know
And them twenty inch chrome sit so sick
Motorola for communication, this is to aid my flows
over the whole nation.

(Ali)
Iceberg!!!

(Iceberg)
It's the nigga the that keeps it duplicated
Or in no type of way, hate it if you like
But you can't stop us gettin'
Unless you sabotage the stage, or drop us in a we stand
And you have to worry bout your whole state
We made it now the legacy's more
be forever raw, heaven or hell
I'll forever S-T-L
Catch me down down baby, in a black
Comin' to get my fuckin' corner for Nelly, (E.I.!)
My fuckin' record were barely, (Uh Ohhhhhhhhh!)
Now there's they can tell me
What I do is too late, for the Louie
See how you fools respond to bomb frees
Bigger Big Lee released all these
And everytime we do fuckin' million ???
And come to answer their 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 met a four, better with metaphors
Metal for whores, Tiger's metal four
Shit, that's what I met her for, strictly
Thick cliques with Big Lee
Can't disturb, stand clap hands and swerve
For the spot where nobody else should fix a hand or
E-Perior bless, since we all wreck mic
You guess me on, Midwest be songs, and testin'
F with the be gone, no quest-ion
yard parties, fourty-four-four
Seventy and East, don't get it F in streets
Style shows like sandals, get handled
Dismantled, St. is Tony Soprano
No two, heffers with blow poor, mo' gurr
Blow get fooled around the clock.

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

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

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

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

(Goobee Thug)
We gon' get two seats and lean harder
X, smoke green, and buy the spring
Y'all niggas your jewels to bling harder
I cock the fifth, y'all your shit
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 brighter than the sun in the skies
Got a gun on my waist, got one in eye
And I blowin' haze and that Chocolate Thai
Y'all smoke swag that's brown with seeds 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 Crew
My Fister!!!

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