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)
it out, my name is Ali
I with them Lunatics
You us, know what I'm sayin'
But what you 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 drinkin' grams in Cali? El Caminos on toners
Hotel with Mona, weed from Pamona
And any ghetto catch this St. Louis on the corner
My known to leave rappers in a coma
So faggotts stop the grinnin', chrome rims reflect
The hate in your face as you see em
are screamin', "No mo' shoutouts" through nine innin's
I'm drama, two baby mommas and one pendin'
This here rapper split up your vest, the shit I'm packin' Dawg'll
knock your heart out 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 Judah Zor, a act to follow
Murderous nigga, known as desperado.

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

(M.K.)
You knew what 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
Sippin' Don P with a dime right!
in my ear about menage a trois
Us and her partners, El Passe and bras
Freaky deaky baby I'm lovin'
Dig the way that you think, them your
Get them a drink, shit one bitch was
Cause she get picked, but baby
We roll with time, it's rippin' the six, trick
Minutes nigga rollin' four deep
Them bitches in the back
I'm gettin' some up in the frontseat
She like, "I got this" you control the
While her partners in the back sixety-ninin' cock spit.

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

(Penelope)
Hot like fire, makin' these niggas
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
Don't make me put a on your lip
A dip in your hip, I'm snatchin' your
I want it all so me it
Am I a Luna-chic? Uh huh, I'm a bitch
More deadly than the that some anacondas spit
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, nigga (C'mon mama let me hit that)
Get the fuck on out of my talkin' all that
Old ass bullshit.

(Ali)
Up next, Kujo!!!

(Kujo)
Niggas me cause I'm nice in the game
And got a priceless like ice in the chain
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 block the cops and the dics
Cause they want me gone, been in the game too
Here's how you want it, you come with nigga
We cock two, got I comp too
one, we pop two
For the for my family, and my seed
Makin' sure records 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, a fuck you niggas sick of me
No matter the fuck 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 bout high-grade we wastin' it?
What you know bout 76 pounds to break down in the
What you know bout chances enough Air
Suitcases and pretty pictures out in Lambert Air
you know bout losin' count cause there's so many stacks?
How niggas 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
What you know bout your broad beggin' to be my
Lunatics and Skunk player up in Trulany
What you bout mo' bail? We brolic like Brutis
Come for them, everyday and my clique's all
What you know bout Spanish Town? Amongst the gun
Buff they soup head still on my red snapper.

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

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

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

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

(King Jacob)
Uugh, everybody want to be
Guaranteed they bring the most
And swear to God nothin' sweet
I agree, but I also 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 twenty inch chrome rims sit so
Motorola shit for communication, is to aid my flows
over the whole nation.

(Ali)
Iceberg!!!

(Iceberg)
It's the nigga the player that keeps it
Or faded in no type of way, it if you like
But you can't us gettin' paid
you sabotage the stage, or drop us in a place we stand
And then you have to worry your whole state
We made it now the legacy's forever
Style be forever raw, heaven or
I'll stay S-T-L
Catch me down down baby, in a black
Comin' to get my corner back for Nelly, (E.I.!)
My record sales were barely, (Uh Ohhhhhhhhh!)
Now there's they can tell me
I do is always too late, for the Louie
See how you fools to these bomb frees
Bigger Big Lee all these beats
And everytime we do what's million ???
And come to answer their question of how come
Gon become part of Alumni nigga

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

(Foundation)
You never met a four, better with
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 clap dance and swerve
For the where nobody else should fix a hand or word
E-Perior bless, we all wreck mic checks
You guess me on, be songs, and testin' Jones
F with the be gone, no quest-ion
School parties, fourty-four-four
Seventy West and East, get it F in streets
Style shows like sandals, pumps get
Dismantled, St. is Tony Soprano
No two, heffers blow poor, ghetto mo' gurr
bolo get fooled around the clock.

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

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

(West Stone)
You Stone is known to break them bones
Meet your chick and take her
Get one chick and her moan
And you wonder why these niggas the Stone
Broke their backs, I wrote the raps
Nigga don't I'll smoke to that
hopin' that, I'll take a bow
Want to my life? Better take 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 bring the
no nigga that can hang with me.

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

(Goobee Thug)
We gon' get two seats recline and lean
X, green, and buy the spring water
Y'all niggas polish your jewels to bling
I cock the fifth, y'all your shit
Type of rob you to cop the whip
Catch me, on 23's a boxter-twist
See the rocks twinkle right in front of your eyes
I shine brighter 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 swag weed that's brown with seeds in it
I hustle from first to through seasons
And you gotta accept this, I ball like the
A. Walker, you up
And I have Ted to make you up.

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

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