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 I'm sayin'
But you might not know
Is we got a lot of MC's in St.
So we gon' do it this
up we got my man Jewely!!!

(Jewely)
Now what's a grand
If you ain't drinkin' grams in Cali? El on toners
Hotel Nico with Mona, from Pamona
And any ghetto catch this St. nigga on the corner
My persona known to rappers in a coma
So faggotts the grinnin', them chrome rims reflect
The in your face as you see em spinnin'
MC's are screamin', "No mo' shoutouts" through nine
I'm drama, two baby mommas and one pendin'
here rapper split up your vest, cause the shit I'm packin' Dawg'll
knock your heart out chest
Rappers suffer from arrest
If I'm I dump a few
You are actin' like, I won't send em to the afterlife
This is Judah Zor, a act to follow
Murderous 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
gigglin' and pointin', and whisperin', "There he go!"
Where he go? Me I be between the ice
Sippin' Don P with a piece right!
in my ear about menage a trois
Us and her partners, El Passe panties and
Freaky baby I'm lovin' that
Dig the way that you think, your partners?
Get them a drink, one bitch was strippin'
she didn't get picked, but baby
We roll with time, only rippin' the six, trick
Minutes later nigga rollin' deep
Them bitches tonguin' in the
I'm gettin' some head up in the
She like, "I got this" you the cockpit
While her partners in the back tradin' cock spit.

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

(Penelope)
Hot like fire, makin' these niggas
Don't be me dirty, you got shit to learn
How to keep these zeroes that's my only concern
Put a torch to these hoes, these bitches burn
Stern, as I handle my grit, mo' shit
Spit, and let my fo-fo rip, so bitch don't
Don't make me put a lump on lip
A dip in hip, I'm snatchin' your shit
I want it all so me it
Am I a Luna-chic? Uh huh, I'm a bitch
More deadly than the venom that some spit
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 me cause I'm nice in the game
And got a style priceless like ice in the
Aiyyo so who am I? I'm the best to spit
I got that, "Hot Shit" like I'm Nelly and the
I pop a hot block the cops and the dics
Cause they want me gone, been in the too long
Here's how you want it, you come 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, from now until
I'm from the 34, in 3D
Southsiiiiiiide, hot boy like I'm
Spit the truth til I die, give a you niggas sick of me
No matter what the you faggotts 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 high-grade we wastin' it?
you know bout 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 bout losin' count cause there's so many stacks?
How many niggas can say like this
But there's in the tracks?
What you know bout clicked up nigga? Out the country
How many you done had pussy from the Virgin Islands?
What you know bout your broad to be my mama?
Lunatics and Skunk dick up in Trulany
What you know bout mo' bail? We brolic Brutis
for them, everyday and my clique's all exclusive
What you know Spanish Town? Amongst the gun clappers
Buff they penis soup head 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 and grin, and fuck your best friend
Only if she a ten, I slide right in
Boogee and DJ Spin, be thunder and
Damn that's frightenin, so your vest in
My lyrical Mack-10, flows 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' like Vince
How you it head or cut? We in the back of the truck
Tryin' to see if baby girl can make me bust nut
Cause I'm 24 above the gun creek
Get hoes deep, so you pack yo heat.

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

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

(King Jacob)
Uugh, everybody to be street
Guaranteed bring the most heat
And swear to God nothin' sweet
I agree, but I also feel I ain't got to shit
To do it to them punk ass niggas from click
I fuck hoes that be so thick, I roll you know this
And them twenty chrome rims sit so sick
shit for communication, this is to aid my flows
Take over the 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 us gettin' paid
Unless you sabotage the stage, or drop us in a place we
And then you to worry bout your whole state
We made it now the legacy's forever
Style be forever raw, heaven or
I'll forever S-T-L
Catch me down baby, in a black Humvee
to get my fuckin' corner back for Nelly, (E.I.!)
My record sales were barely, (Uh Ohhhhhhhhh!)
Now there's nothin' can tell me
What I do is always too late, for the
See how you fools respond to these frees
Bigger Big Lee all these beats
And we do what's fuckin' million ???
And to answer their question of how come I-C-E-B-G
Gon become part of Alumni nigga

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

(Foundation)
You met a four, better with metaphors
Metal for whores, like Tiger's metal
Shit, that's what I met her for, city
cliques mixed with Big Lee
Can't disturb, stand hands dance and swerve
For the spot nobody else should fix a hand or word
E-Perior bless, since we all wreck mic
You me on, Midwest be songs, and testin' Jones
F the best be gone, no quest-ion
School yard parties,
West and East, don't get it F in streets
Style shows like sandals, get handled
Dismantled, St. Louis is Tony
No two, heffers blow poor, ghetto 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 niggas in the truck with
You want to him, but you won't got no luck with Storm
My dirty run dirty niggas and he from St. Lou
he know Kung-Fu, and he got guns too
That big dick dude, flip 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 call me doo-doo shoes.

(West Stone)
You know Stone is known to break them
Meet your chick and her home
Get one and make her moan
And you why these niggas hate the Stone
Broke their backs, I wrote the raps
Nigga don't drink I'll smoke to
Niggas hopin' that, take a bow
Want to my life? Better take it now
I'm still let me break it down
Turn this to the O.K. Corral
Get to blastin', asses
Forget talk shit, I'm with the action
Want to make it hot? I'ma the heat
no nigga 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 spring
Y'all niggas polish your to bling harder
I the fifth, y'all drop your shit
of nigga rob you to cop the whip
Catch me, on 23's with a
See the rocks twinkle twinkle right in front of your
I shine brighter than the sun in the
Got a gun on my waist, got one in eye
And I stays haze and that Chocolate Thai
Y'all smoke swag weed that's with seeds in it
I from first to first through seasons
And you gotta accept this, I like the Celtics
A. Walker, you up
And I have Ted Foster to you up.

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

(Fister)
I'm the man before time, move hands before
Don Bluth I made The Land Before Time
Some MC's think nice, but not hardly
That's they "Say Say Say" like Paul McArtney
And Michael Jackson, I cypher the
To anyone who assists like John
Who these kids think they is to act all wild
They temporary like of Destiny's Child
I'm spottin' the top Feds, the hot lead
All in his pothead, makin' him drop
Call me Shanksoon, lyrically your soul
Your squad's useless, like the arm on Bob Dole
Behold, the manifold of a black
MC's, with my hand on the throttle
Smashin' em all, em all, bashin' em all
Picked up my Friday check em all