Luyện nghe bài hát The Bizness

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

Yeah, yeah, you know the
Sense, soul with the De La
Get all them
We the rhyme

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

I speak divine of God theories, no need to be
Always exhale the facts 'cause I inhale lie
Play the man's game, to bounce off my losses
So I can earn the acres, the houses, yeah, the

Of course, it's greater than your Benx or your Lex
The engine to my comprehension is too complex
Much too complex, EFX be live Das
Making moves down South, to avoid the

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

I haveta respects to real money makers
Do not connect us with those sippin' money fakers
Taste the quarter pound with spice from
Now what that prove, you're so full, you even move

I'm the D to the O, the V to the E
And can't brother cook these delicacies
I'm the P L U, the G to the One
Walk around the planet earth, 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 wanna be a MC? Or do you wanna
Do you wanna be dope? Or do you wanna it?
acrylic, I feel it, I'm the style molester
I do a show, get Extra P's the Large Professor

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

Take a like Greg 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 like a or an owner
I to love her but now I bone her

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

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 no other cook these delicacies

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

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

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

The lyrical killing, with stained on the ceiling
My rhymes escalates like death rates
Over musical plates, being 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 you run or what section of earth
You reside, you're not a man
So I don't deem it mandatory, taking pride

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

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

Now 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, double M O N
I sit and think with a about how I'm gonna win

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

Ah, that's how, how I'm supposed to do my thing, huh
Like it, alright
That's how we do it, all the way Strong Island to Chicago
The type of 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, nonstop
And to my kin de Calhoun, yo, he's
Yo girl MP, yo, she's nonstop

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

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

And to the Jazzyfatnastees, yo, nonstop
And my Beatminerz, man they nonstop
And to my man Mr. Bug, you know nonstop
And yo, Litro, yo, nonstop

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

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

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