Luyện nghe bài hát Stay Lo

[Verse Q-Unique]
Has it occurred to you that you wasn't meant to grab the mic
and kick a rhyme, son I think wastin' time
If you was light you wouldn't when asked to sign the dotted line
Tell 'em sorry you must decline, nah mind
I'ma tag you with this {nine}
Now see I wouldn't resort to but since you spit I had to abort you
Tall nigga to short you slash your vocals, stop your raps being spoken
Crush your knuckles leavin' ya mic hand broken
I'm out to damage you like a shiesty (buahahaha)
you down the stairs, cut you off when I leaped over the banister
Cornered, it can be, you flee
stand to see 'cause nigga you can't emcee
The platinum recipient suffered a twisted fate like chubby checker
being lynched off the goldengate over troubled water
The colonel giving orders smash the up for its quarters
Go unpause ya tape

[Chorus:
low, don't ask 'em to say hoe
Toy mic you play
a rap career, that shit is way no
Start a rap career, that is way no
Toy mic you play
ask 'em to say hoe, stay low

Stay low, ask 'em to say hoe
Toy mic you flow
a rap career, that shit is way no
Stay low, ask 'em to say HOE
Thought to a rap career, that shit is way no

[Verse Swel Boogie]
I pound the final round
Bring on the clown, how you sound?
You think I'm lower than dirt? I'm double
for the case is, whatever the place is
We sever the stages, you could never face this
Arsonist and Non-phix with convicts that want chicks
but make sure they the tricks
that don't complain, any position
Heads or I'ma win in any decision
The mission is for you to get it
Complete, so dead it, it or I'ma.. set it, I'm heated
I'm must proven guilty for murder 'cause I be killin' it
If tracks I ain't feeling it than I don't deal with it

Stay low, ask 'em to say hoe

[Verse Jise One]
Low brim shadow my eyes (code red) a steel toe show
Bold to mo' live antagonize size
Most cats off the face then come back to be surprised (why?)
Sly Stone the mic to enterprise, lies within you small fries
Most that grow to be loose change, I despise that (why?)
There two that draw the fine lines between the biz and rhymes
You breed greed to try mock ('cause I define the true times, why?)
The records B.I. shit don't get the air
You fear us nothing but bare then show signs you're not aware (why?)
low, don't ask 'em to say hoe
A million sold don't make you pro, that's why we hold it for our

(Chorus)