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

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

(Intro: Ali)
Check it out, my is Ali
I with them 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 what's a grand
If you ain't grams in Cali? El Caminos on toners
Nico with Mona, weed from Pamona
And any ghetto catch this St. nigga on the corner
My persona known to rappers in a coma
So faggotts stop the grinnin', them chrome reflect
The hate in your as you see em spinnin'
MC's are screamin', "No mo' shoutouts" through nine
I'm drama, like two mommas and one pendin'
This here split up your vest, cause the shit I'm packin' Dawg'll
knock your out your 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 hard act to
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
Bitches and pointin', and whisperin', "There he go!"
he go? Me I be loungin' between the ice
Sippin' Don P with a piece right!
Whisperin' in my ear about a trois
Us and her partners, El Passe panties and
Freaky deaky baby I'm lovin'
Dig the way that you think, them your
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' four
Them bitches in the back
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 that hazel-eyed
Fo' Reel, Penelope!!!

(Penelope)
Hot fire, makin' these niggas yearn
be stressin' me dirty, you got shit to learn
How to keep seven zeroes that's my only 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 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 looney
More deadly the venom that some anacondas 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 nigga (C'mon let me hit that)
Get the on out of my face talkin' all that
Old ass bullshit.

(Ali)
Up next, Kujo!!!

(Kujo)
Niggas hate me cause I'm 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 and the Tics
I pop a hot dodge the cops and the dics
Cause want me gone, been in the game too long
how you want it, you come with guns nigga
We cock two, got work? I too
one, we pop two
For the for my family, and my seed
Makin' them records 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, a fuck you niggas sick 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, you know bout high-grade we wastin' it?
you know bout 76 pounds to break down in the basement?
What you know bout enough Air Course
Suitcases and pretty pictures out in Lambert Air
What you know bout losin' count 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 from the Virgin Islands?
you know bout your broad beggin' to be my mama?
Lunatics and dick player up in Trulany
What you know bout mo' We brolic like Brutis
Come for them, and my clique's all exclusive
What you know bout Spanish Amongst the gun clappers
Buff they penis soup still on my red snapper.

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

(Boogee Mann)
Well Mr. B-double-O-G M-A-double-N
I smoke and grin, and fuck your best friend
Only if she a ten, then I slide in
Boogee and DJ Spin, be thunder and
Damn that's frightenin, so your vest in
My lyrical Mack-10, spit flows kill men
It's the Midwest y'all, we at all y'all
We the ball til we fall or nothin' at all
So just warm up the water, cause we like Trotter
Half-baked half slaughter, like Vince Carter
How you want it head or cut? We in the back of the
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 representin' V.I.P.
Jacob and Suga 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, and booted
Undisputed dame, the same, in the game
my Tenants had fat laces, smack faces
With Tipsy (Ouch) feel it bitch
You gettin' thrown out of clubs time you see me.

(King Jacob)
Uugh, everybody to be street
Guaranteed bring 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 them punk ass from your click
I fuck hoes that be so thick, I roll you know this
And them inch chrome rims sit so sick
shit for communication, this is to aid my flows
Take 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'
you sabotage the stage, or drop us in a place we stand
And then you have to worry bout your whole
We made it now the legacy's forever
Style be forever raw, or hell
I'll stay S-T-L
me down down baby, in a black Humvee
Comin' to get my fuckin' back for Nelly, (E.I.!)
My fuckin' sales were barely, (Uh Ohhhhhhhhh!)
Now nothin' they can tell me
What I do is too late, for the Louie
See how you fools respond to bomb frees
Big Lee released all these beats
And everytime we do what's fuckin' ???
And to answer their question of how come I-C-E-B-G
Gon become part of this Alumni

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

(Foundation)
You never met a four, better with
Metal for whores, Tiger's metal four
Shit, that's what I met her for, strictly
cliques mixed with Big Lee
Can't disturb, stand hands dance and swerve
For the where 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 the best be gone, no quest-ion
School parties, fourty-four-four
Seventy West and East, don't get it F in
Style like sandals, pumps get handled
Dismantled, St. Louis is Tony
No two, heffers blow poor, ghetto mo' gurr
bolo get fooled around the clock.

(Ali)
Up next, we got two live
My man and his home' West 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 with Storm
My dirty run with dirty niggas and he St. Lou
Plus he Kung-Fu, and he got guns too
That big dick dude, that flip kick like Tom Cruise
You don't wanna me dude you gon' lose
Hit you with one-two's, lungs bruised
My foot in the butter so many crews me doo-doo shoes.

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

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

(Goobee Thug)
We gon' get two seats recline and 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 23's with a
See the rocks twinkle twinkle right in front of 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 weed that's brown with seeds in it
I hustle from first to first through
And you gotta this, I ball like the Celtics
A. Walker, you up
And I Ted Foster to make you up.

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

(Fister)
I'm the man before time, move hands time
Like Don I made The Land Before Time
Some MC's think 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 kids think they is tryin' to act all
They like members of Destiny's Child
I'm spottin' the top Feds, the hot lead
All in his pothead, makin' him dead
Call me Shanksoon, snatchin' your soul
Your squad's useless, like the arm on Bob Dole
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 check em all