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

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

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

(Jewely)
Now a grand finale
If you drinkin' grams in Cali? El Caminos on toners
Hotel Nico with Mona, from Pamona
And any ghetto catch this St. Louis nigga on the
My known to leave rappers in a coma
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 innin's
I'm drama, two baby mommas and one pendin'
This here rapper split up your vest, cause the shit I'm packin'
knock your heart out chest
Rappers suffer from cardiac
If I'm uncomfortable I 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, representative
My M.K.!!!

(M.K.)
You what time it was soon as you stepped in the door
gigglin' and pointin', and whisperin', "There he go!"
Where he go? Me I be loungin' the ice
Sippin' Don P with a piece right!
in my ear about menage a trois
Us and her partners, El panties and bras
Freaky baby I'm lovin' 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 nigga rollin' four deep
bitches 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' tradin' spit.

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

(Penelope)
Hot like fire, makin' niggas yearn
Don't be me dirty, you got shit to learn
How to keep these seven zeroes that's my concern
Put a to these hoes, make these bitches burn
Stern, as I handle my grit, mo' shit
Spit, and let my fo-fo rip, so bitch slip
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 anacondas
The Marilyn Monroe, of the
I'm a for cornrows, niggas 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 on out of my face talkin' all that
Old ass bullshit.

(Ali)
Up next, Kujo!!!

(Kujo)
hate me cause I'm nice in the game
And got a style like ice in the chain
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 dodge the cops and the dics
Cause they me gone, been in the game too long
Here's how you it, you come with guns nigga
We two, got work? I comp too
one, we pop two
For the for my family, and my seed
Makin' sure them live on, from now until infinity
I'm the 34, live in 3D
Southsiiiiiiide, hot boy like I'm
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, you know bout high-grade we wastin' it?
What you know bout 76 pounds to break down in the
What you know bout enough Air Course
Suitcases and pretty out in Lambert Air Port?
you know bout losin' count cause there's so many stacks?
How many niggas can say like this
But truth in the tracks?
What you know clicked up nigga? Out the country whilin'
How many you niggas done had pussy from the Virgin
What you know bout your broad to be my mama?
Lunatics and Skunk dick player up in
What you know bout mo' bail? We like Brutis
for them, everyday and my clique's all exclusive
What you know Spanish Town? Amongst the gun clappers
Buff penis soup head still on my red snapper.

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

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

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

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

(King Jacob)
Uugh, everybody want to be
Guaranteed they bring the most
And to God ain't 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 that be so thick, when I roll you know this
And them twenty inch rims sit so sick
Motorola shit for communication, is to aid my flows
Take the whole nation.

(Ali)
Iceberg!!!

(Iceberg)
It's the the player that keeps it duplicated
Or faded in no type of way, hate it if you
But you can't stop us 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 more
be forever raw, heaven or hell
I'll forever S-T-L
me down down baby, in a black Humvee
Comin' to get my corner back for Nelly, (E.I.!)
My fuckin' record were barely, (Uh Ohhhhhhhhh!)
Now there's nothin' they can me
I do is always too late, for the Louie
See how you fools to these bomb frees
Big Lee released all these beats
And everytime we do fuckin' million ???
And come to answer their question of how come
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, better metaphors
Metal for whores, Tiger's metal four
Shit, that's what I met her for, city
Thick cliques mixed Big Lee
Can't disturb, stand clap hands and swerve
For the spot where else should fix a hand or word
E-Perior bless, since we all mic checks
You guess me on, Midwest be songs, and Jones
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. Louis is Tony
No two, heffers with poor, ghetto mo' gurr
bolo get fooled around the clock.

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

(Storm)
You can't fuck with Storm, six niggas in the truck 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 flip kick fools like Tom
You don't battle me dude you gon' lose
Hit you with one-two's, your bruised
My foot in the butter so crews call me doo-doo shoes.

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

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

(Goobee Thug)
We get two seats recline and lean harder
X, smoke green, and buy the spring
Y'all niggas polish your jewels to bling
I cock the fifth, drop your shit
Type of rob you to cop the whip
Catch me, on 23's a boxter-twist
See the twinkle twinkle right in front of your eyes
I shine brighter than the sun in the
Got a gun on my waist, got one in eye
And I stays blowin' 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 like 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, move hands time
Like Don Bluth I made The Land Before
Some MC's they're nice, but not hardly
That's what "Say Say Say" like Paul McArtney
And Jackson, I cypher the action
To who assists like John Packson
Who these think they 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, him drop dead
Call me Shanksoon, lyrically snatchin' your
Your squad's useless, like the 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 cashin' em all