Luyện nghe bài hát The New Style

And on the check in
stage on the mic
And puttin' it on wax
It's the new

Four and and two and one (What up!)
And I'm on the mic
the run (Word!)
with Adrock and Mike D. and you ain't
And I got more juice Picasso got paint
Got rhymes that are rough and rhymes are slick
I'm not surprised on my dick

Be-E-A-S-T-I-E, up Mike D.
Ah yeah, me
I got franks and and beans
bust the new routines
I get it, I got it, I know it's
The rhymes I write, you you would

I'm in training, my voice is not straining
People always biting and I'm sick of
So I went into the locker room classes
into your locker and I smashed your glasses
You're Secausus, I'm from Manhattan
You're jealous of me because girlfriend is cattin'

it is, kick it!

Father to many, married to
And in case you're unaware I a gun
Stepped the party, the place was over packed
Saw the kid that dissed my home boy and him in the back
I had to get a beeper 'cause my phone is
You keep your mouth shut 'cause I'm fully strapped
I got money in the bank, I can get high
That's why your girlfriend thinks I'm so fly
I've got money and juice, twin in my bed
father had Aids so I shot him in the head
If I played guitar I'd be Jimmy
The girlie's I like are (Check it!)
Girls boyfriends are the kinds I like
I'll steal your honey like I your bike
My father, he's 'cause I'm making that green
I've got the numbers from the places I been

it is, kick it!

You want to why, because I'm
October 31st, that is my of birth
I got to the party and you know what I did the
Taxing all from coast to coast
And when I get my I'm chilly most
We rag-tag girlies at the hotel
And then we all places when I ring the bell
I chill at White Castle 'cause the best
But I'm fly at Fat when I way out west
whammy
All the fly are on my jammy
Went to the prom, the fly blue rental
Got six girlies in my Continental
I met a girl at the party and she to flirt
I told her some rhymes and she up her skirt
Spent bank, I got a high powered jumbo
Rolled up a wooly and I watched

Let me my throat
Kick it over here pop
And let all the fly skimmies,
Feel the beat

on the corner on a hot summer day
Just me, my and M.C.A.
A lot of beer, a lot of and a lot of cursing
Twenty-two on my person
Got my hand in my pocket and my on the trigger
My posse's gettin' big and my gettin' bigger
Some voices got treble, some got bass
We got the kind of voices that are in face
the bun to the burger, like the burger to the bun
Like the to the apple, to the peach to the plum
I'm the king of the Ave., and I'm the of the block
I'm M.C.A., and I'm the King
I'm D., I got all the fly juice
On the checkin' at the party on the deuce
Walking the block with the fresh fly threads
Beastie Boys fly the heads