Luyện nghe bài hát The Fan

Yo, yo-yo, yo
Aiyyo this here's procedure, MC's durin' my leisure
Time I to do 'em in
The sound pumps and runs right through ya
When it hits, it reacts like a to ya

Some to it, small kids might skip to it
And jail get rep to it
You get, by on but you wack on stage
So I'm, blowin' you up, hand grenades

That's why we with the big boys
With big toys, bringin' crazy noise and
Shuttin' down and motherfuckers
In low beta, not to be fucked like the swamp gator
Potato, on the barrel of the snub when I blaze ya

As I, dust bust, crush and
Catch you flossin' nigga, turn ice physi' into slush
So yo, what's the for really
We rock nine untilly, grindin' Billy
So niggaz and spark the Phillie

Yo, I know you was a fan of
I you was a fan of mine
I you was a fan of mine
Here's my card and on the of it's my fan club digits

Yo, I know you was a fan of
I you was a fan of mine
I you was a fan of mine
Here's my card and on the of it's my fan club digits

Uh, aiyyo takin' our spot, outrageous
P and I stomp who get courageous
And microphones get on stages
Any book or mag, we on a few

Not commercial, not frontin', and no
I swear, we take it there
Billboard's top ten, tradition
Comin' through blastin' mad ammunition

Five-alarmer, bomber, woman charmer
Night in armor, penthouse view, with the
God dammit, me the rock, and watch me slam it
Jam it it, until you stupid niggaz understand it

It's been a long time, MC bitch niggaz runnin'
Wack MC's we straight
When we up, unexpected, undetected
Resurrected, EPMD wind, fuel-injected

Yo, I know you was a fan of
I you was a fan of mine
I you was a fan of mine
Here's my card and on the of it's my fan club digits

Yo, I you was a fan of mine
I you was a fan of mine
I know you was a fan of
Here's my card and on the back of my fan club digits

Word yeah, em P, yo
I never seen before, when I came through
With my dogs headbangin' with the 'Hit Squad
Hardcore, we got biz the get go
Any beef with us, we ain't lettin' go

E-Dub, no one me
If there's a spot, then find a
Boy, I own my style, y'all got leases
I get the pie, while y'all get pieces

That's why we own, bitin' our shit, we don't
News flash, Erick and Parrish, we got it
And like I'm we Dash for the cash, mash for the fash'
Bashin' the rash, up P, straight on smidash

So stop playin', serious 'So What Cha Sayin'?'
In Apollo sold out with Red man, fuckin'
To the corners, the back alleys, to the Cali valleys
EPMD in effect, chillin' as the scans