Luyện nghe bài hát Turn Up The Mic

[Intro:
I fuck with my niggaz, I gotta keep it tight
With my big brother, Bumpy
We gon' on these niggaz my nigga, huh
up the mics, yeah, lets get crazy, nigga, what
Turn up the mics, bitch-ass niggaz is Swayze
it out

[Verse 1:
I'm Nasty but bitches, handcuff snitches
Feed they nuts to pit bulls and plan more
Got on leashes walkin on all fours
Have 'em eatin from dog bowls they heads
Cause they love playin that role they in bed
Smokin I'm outta control wish death on the feds
Cup spills with Grey Goose snuff films
Laughin dykes that wear patent leather with spikes
My is right, Miami beach playin it low
St. rent a house and a boat
Two thou' on my throat
That's half of what my wife ice cost
Phonecall, hearin another got his life lost
Well, wipin' sand off of my
a book called "Catcher in the rye", I chose
Some Bob then I plotted a scheme
To make me and Knux more rich
Then I got me a team, he got 'em a
He tryin to buy G-force with missile
Tired of walkin' with beef, with that pistols on us
C-4's better I'm callin up some b-more
To and bleed you
As as the sun's in the sky you'll surely die
You washed up, your people
Your money ain't as long as you dumb and you foul
Who you tryin to squeeze all this fuck with disease
We the new breed,

[Chorus: Nas (& Foxxx)]
up the mics,
Uh at somebody real
out the lights,
Bump Knux, God's Son get it right
Turn up the
(Aha yeah turn the up)
Turn out the
(That's right ya'll know why, I you why)
suicide

[Verse 2: Knuckles]
It's Bump I'm rowdy I'm
I'm crazy I'm sick I talk
Name brand all on my dick
I don't trip I meet bitches in this game that got pretty famous
All that projects' pussy, nigga, all the
We gangsters, we keepin it keep it street
guns and microphones, be keepin heat
I'm the unsquashable beef I put it in your
That means every show I be layin in your dressing room
Next to the Henney Rock two .20 cocked
I'm a cold nigga that keep shit plenty hot
My bubble is stocked with double truth
For you old-assed gangsters and you youth
Knowin ; I hate and niggaz with cop friends
And by weight in the hood they drop ends
With marks on 'em scratched by the eye
You hand me a twenty, you must die
Nigga, I won't remake a Pac record or say a verse
And I shoot you without smokin a Ziggy first
God's Son we hot in
we hot in here, niggaz they got to fear!

[Outro:
Turn up the mics, yeah get crazy, nigga whut
Turn up the mics, bitch ass niggaz is Swayze
it out
Turn up the mics, lets get crazy, nigga whut
up the mics, y'all bitch ass niggaz is Swayze
it out
Turn up the mics, yeah get crazy, nigga whut
Turn up the mics, y'all bitch ass is Swayze
Shh