Luyện nghe bài hát The Bizness

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

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

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

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

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

And never flaunt the 'cuz dime-getters be gazin'
They call me Luther Van, they say my style is so
I'm fazin' those who're supposed to have the last
even when I'm gone, I'm reappearin' in the after

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

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

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

Do you be a MC? Or do you wanna serve?
Do you wanna be dope? Or do you 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, game like a
Refa-ree in control of my
Destiny, in the best of three out of
anybody ass at NBA Live, rappers

Take a like Greg Lougainis with his bitch-ass
Rather be in alley, than 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 in rhyme, I thought I lost my erection
But I got it back with the resurrection, blessings
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 how I'm gonna win
And I'm the D to the O, the V to the E
And can't no other brother cook these

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

I'm the most from the coast of the flav'
Droppin' more knowledge than litter, on the New York
me, wonder 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 even inside the door
'Cause these is rhyming, some timing
And when we get to racing on the mic, line up to see

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And to, my dean The Green, yo, you're
And to my man Paul, yo, he's nonstop
And to that man Kid Capri, yo, you
And A Tribe Called Quest, man, they
And don't the Jungle Beez, yo, they nonstop

Let me you a little something about Soul, tell 'em son
I be a piece of the East coast, so 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 them kids the inner city
Giving you kitties audible treats, you be aching for
More than a pagan holiday
Not from the PJ's, yet I got something to say