Luyện nghe bài hát Tha Proem

"The presentation is rated R."

Uhh! God damn! Yeah!

This my nigga DJ motherfuckin
We gon' take shit back to the Mixmaster days
and put it all in your
and wiggle it around a little bit,
YouknowhatI'msayin? Party nigga
Ahh yeah, y'all need a of 'em
We ain't witcho' bitch-ass either
YouknowhatI'msayin? Niggaz try to walk the walk, talk the
But that bullshit nothin man {*scratches*}
I said that bullshit nothin man!
"aw, niggaz, niggaz.."*}
Niggaz can't do we do {"NO"}
{*"Bullshit ain't man!"*}
Damn; so you need to do.. is.. {"stop stop stop stop STOP!"}
.. shut the fuck up and listen for a {"Listen!"}
Pay attention - might somethin {"Now LISTEN!"}
Don't you carry yo' ass in the studio wit dem boys neither
or they put all UPSIDE ya motherfuckin head with the beats!
That's my nigga Q.. I him..
{"Quik, Quik-Quik, Q-Quik, Quik-Quik"}
{"Too Quik!"}
Yeah.. Yeah.. {"Quik-Quik-Quik-Quik-Quik-Quik-Quik"}
Talk.. {"Motherfuckin Quik"} it
Yeah.. ooh! Haha,

Now off of of drank (drank drank)
got yo' boy lookin for a bitch to spank (spank spank)
Baby you can it but ya sister cain't (nah nah)
Runnin 'round smellin like a tank (ewwwahh)
Girl you to stop you know your ass is stank (stank stank)
'round beggin all the baller for bank (bank bank)
Tryin to hit a but like that you cain't (nah nah)
Cause your ass come around I faint (wooo!)
People get to out;
I'ma you one more chance but yo' ass is out
Now don't you bring yo' ass back like raw trout (trout)
everytime I see you I'ma bust you out!
(Here she come, out!)
And you with the demos (demos)
Man you as bad as dem hoes (hoes)
bout your record comin out (out out)
But you need to put some gum in mouth (hell yes)
Cause before I you rhyme or you get a beat from Quik

Da Kid
Yo yo Shyheim, and y'all can suck my DICK!
Son you owe me, fuck the dough I it in blood
You was my homey, me nuttin but thug love
Put me on to the game, bought me my chain
Let me ride shotgun, in Benz and Range
I'm thinkin how this big gon', go against the grain
Hit him up when it's foggy outside, about to
It's about to rain teflon
But we ride can't-stop-killers
I you was fam 'til you switched the love
Now you, rich and fuck, you forget the
you on the radio, but I ain't get no plug
And if you around the way, I should get you stuck
I wish you luck, I'ma make you the gun
And I ain't gon' stop my justice done
What you be labelled as, a coward or a duck?
What powder you cut, you that building for what?
When you rep that building, what you for that building
If it for me, you woulda been DEAD in that building
You don't know it feel like to say I own that building
Get dough in that building, or control building
You know that feeling, you ain't condone that killing
when the cops came, you was like, "Shy in that building"
I remember the days when you was in them buildings
You in front of these buildings, like you build them
When was home, you was on his dick
And you gave that bitch money cause you always been a
You know Shy Da Kid, I'm on the block
the crack in the spot, spit back in the block
Fuckin clap at the cops, if I'm or not
gon' do nigga? Shoot or get shot
I'm hot on the block like new out the box
All fulla dope, at the bow(?) .. what?

Kweli
yeah.. yo
Kweli, I'm rock this and so forth and so on
You can get the dick, one to on or one to blow on
Bet you Quik get his dough on, I spit kick the on
Got swift shit I throw on, cause I'ma leave I float on
Plus I get my roll on Baby and Mannie Fresh
After I go on y'all niggaz'll bust like tantric sex
The nigga that represent the planet best
How I manifest from to Los Angeles - people!
We hold this down wherever you're from
Got my name all in your mouth you pierced your tongue
Pimped the game so hard we them whores numb
The more I come, Kweli, I'm bout to like George Young
I'm the Don Cheadle of rap, dope arms and needles of crack
My lyrics and arm the people like gats
In Cali studios we rest the up on the console
Peep Hollywood niggaz who think it's like Comanco
they gangster and street like they lookin for beef
But with a gun in they teeth just MC's lookin for beats
Y'all don't want trouble, we pop bubbles and muscle
don't respect the lyrics, they respect your hustle
The industry is like Kinko's, copies while you wait
And the people scream for NEW SHIT, like Clue tapes
Y'all speed this in your face, slow like Screw tape
Cause as as you rockin with Quik, nigga you straight