Luyện nghe bài hát The Bizness

And, and up the track a little bit
I, I'm here I wanna hear that boom bish boom, knowhatI'msayin'?

Yeah, yeah, you know the
Common Sense, soul the De La
Get all them
We the sayers

Huh and the bizness, hah
Gonna do it like
it hot
Like the Chicago

I speak divine of God theories, no need to be
Always exhale the 'cause I don't inhale lie
Play the man's game, to bounce off my losses
So I can the acres, the houses, yeah, the horses

Of course, much greater than your Benx or your Lex
The engine to my comprehension is too complex
Much too complex, EFX be like Das
Making moves down South, to the chaos

And never flaunt the coin 'cuz be gazin'
call me Luther Van, they say my style is so amazin'
I'm fazin' those who're supposed to the last laughter
'Cuz even when I'm gone, I'm reappearin' in the

I haveta respects to real money makers
Do not connect us with those champaign sippin' money
the quarter pound with spice from Chi-town
Now what that prove, you're so full, you can't move

I'm the D to the O, the V to the E
And can't another brother cook delicacies
I'm the P L U, the G to the One
Walk around the planet earth, making money, fun

And I'm the C to the O, M O N
I sit and with a drink about how I'm gonna win
I'm the C to the O, M O N
I sit and with a drink

Do you wanna be a MC? Or do you serve?
Do you wanna be Or do you wanna deal it?
acrylic, I feel it, I'm the style molester
I do a show, get Extra P's like the Professor

In fact I get more hoes than Tessa, peep game a
Refa-ree in soul of my
Destiny, in the best of three out of
Whip anybody ass at NBA Live,

Take a dive like Lougainis with his bitch-ass
Rather be in Bebe's alley, at the click with gators
Not a hater of the players, I'm more a coach or an owner
I used to love her but now I her

At one point in rhyme, I thought I lost my
But then I got it back with the resurrection,
rhymes, old man who called him traitor
Big Com Stradamus, niggaz, styles I

I'm the C to the O, M O N
I sit and think with a drink about how I'm win
And I'm the D to the O, the V to the E
And no other brother cook these delicacies

I'm the P L U, the G to the One
Walk the planet earth, making money, having fun
around the planet earth, making money, having fun
Walk around the planet earth, money, having fun

I'm the most from the of the Eastern flav'
more knowledge than litter, on the New York pave'
It's me, why, in the place to be
Certified, as superior, MC

While others explore to it hardcore
I make it hard for wack MC's to step inside the door
'Cause these kids is rhyming, timing
And we get to racing on the mic, they line up to see

The lyrical killing, with egos on the ceiling
My rhymes escalates like black death
Over musical plates, being played as the
Kids thinking, to the Soul, you're labeled fools

Who to drop jewels but for now you do the catching
I don't worry on what crew you run or what of earth
You reside, not even a man
So I deem it mandatory, taking your pride

But I 'cause my man says, Soul for the life
You cried, "Keepin' it real", yet you try keepin' it right
That's understanding mathematics
leaves the currency in temporary world status

And when one shows, he threat to this one
This one make that one into none
Simple equation, zero, you shouldn't hero
If you can't stand strong like the island I'm

Now I'm the P L U, the G to the One
Walk the planet earth, making money, having fun
Yeah and I'm the C to the O, M O N
I sit and with a drink about how I'm gonna win

And I'm the D to the O, the V to the E
And can't another brother cook these
See can't another brother these delicacies
See another brother cook these delicacies

Ah, how, that's how I'm supposed to do my thing, huh
Like triple it,
That's how we do it, all the way from Strong Island to
The of freestyler flow
Yeah, it's and we don't need to flow no more

To my man Mos Def, yo, he
To my man Enola, yo, he's
And to my kin de Calhoun, yo, nonstop
Yo girl MP, yo, she's nonstop

And to crew Camp Lo, yo, they nonstop
And to that nigga Pop Life, yo, he's
And to my cousin Fudd Love, you know he
My brother Lucky and Pert, yo, they

And to my man Joe Buck, you he nonstop
And my man P, yo, he's nonstop
And my man Divine, you know he nonstop
kid called Baby Paul, yo, he's nonstop

And to the Jazzyfatnastees, yo, you're
And my peoples Beatminerz, man they
And to my man Mr. Bug, you know nonstop
And yo, Litro, yo, he's

And to, my dean The Green, yo, nonstop
And to my man Prince Paul, yo, nonstop
And to man Kid Capri, yo, you nonstop
And A Tribe Called Quest, man, nonstop
And don't forget the Jungle Beez, yo, nonstop

Let me tell you a something about Soul, tell 'em son
I be a piece of the coast, so give a toast to
Plug Wonder, why back in the day who his words in jigga
So when I ran a phrase in June, you didn't catch it December

I'm a member of kids from the inner city
Giving you kitties treats, you be aching for making
More money than a pagan
Not from the PJ's, yet I got something to say