Luyện nghe bài hát Tote Gunz

Yo Kenny Parker up!
(Whooooooooooo)
KRS in the
Yo these cats all talkin'
run this, they run that
Motherfucker's don't run
KRS-one in this
Ya'll battle?
go!

I tote gunz, I number runs
(Don't it)
I tote gunz, I make runs
(Don't forget)
I tote gunz, I make number
(Let's take these back)
I tote gunz, I number runs
I tote gunz, I number runs
(What think)
I gunz, I make number runs
(Huh)
I tote gunz, I make number
(Let's these cats Kenny)

They some hoes, watch what say
There's pictures of they with price tags on Ebay
vu the matrix must be havin' glitches
I could have sworn I just smashed short bitches
You need to up to me
right now all ya'll rhymin' right where my dick is
You just lost, you can't
club is like Iraq you the U.S. you need to leave
Battle Kris? I'll blaze two guns
Have yo ass lookin' like two sons
This that shit wild
You look like some kid that got gassed watchin' 8 Mile
Now pull up your neo
How'd I beat
Did it have to do with the mic I speak through?
No, but if you get far
Don't think you
you are
why

I tote gunz, I make runs
(That's right)
I gunz, I make number runs
(Don't it)
I tote gunz, I number runs
(New York)
I tote gunz, I number runs
(That's real)
I tote gunz, I make number
(New York)
I tote gunz, I make runs
(Huh)
I tote gunz, I make number
(Yeah, in you forgot)
I gunz, I make number runs

out, shoot out
Everybody up
You doubt, you
KRS, now you fucked
out, Poop out
Through your and your gut
Waive the Glock in boy face like what
You talk that junk, but you really all
I'll you and your man
Com'on up
That's why I got to double
So I could buck buck buck you up
You a fan of rap
I'm the man of rap
I'm lookin' for where hip hop's land is at
You in my way?
Where cannon's at
First thing you get hit is a panic attack
Then you feel the
Of the gat to back
Now you wonderin' why you even said all
You left KRS-one way in the back
With his raps and his old school tracks
But

I tote gunz, I make runs
(Huh Huh)
I tote gunz, I make runs
(Huh Huh)
I tote gunz, I make number
(That's right)
I tote gunz, I make runs
(What, forgot?)
I tote gunz, I make number
(What, you forgot?)
I tote gunz, I make number
(ooooh)
I tote gunz, I make number
I tote gunz, I make number

See, I'm the same guy that out "You Must Learn"
And "Spiritual Minded", but ya'll are not
You wanna take shots at me, and
Tryin' to degrade my

Beat begins to fade

But nope, crazy
I'll watch brains ooze out like cracked jars of turkey gravy
God me to slay thee
And get to it
No ifs ands or maybes