Luyện nghe bài hát Twelve

One, two, crew
What we 'bout to do brothers have no
Three, four, tear down the
And give the people what they came here for

One, two, Jurassic
we bout to do brothers have no clue
Three, four, tear the door
And give the party people they came here for

Yo, my pleasure principle from the of South Central
Ghetto hip-hop, non-stop
Urban curb servin', surgin'
with the turban and the street corner sermon

I keep it working for certain, close
bought up a troop when I'm dispersing
That body moving, ghetto baby music
We eat together with the city coolness

Yo, who's this? a rhyme in square bits
Burning through open skin like prepared grits
It's fish, I'm bringing the bad news
And changing your bathroom if you thinking that rules

Pumpernickle words like snot speckles
When shots echo, some duck and like Doc Jeckyl
Like Don Rickles, I'm kicking that stop heckles
Correcting all them bombaclot

Yeah, I got my on my money for those that comprehend
And my money on whatever I think I look in
Questions, is he authentic?
Controller of the panic, a senate lieutenant

Spit it, yo, despite your critic
Knowing it ain't a hotter verse than Mohammed
Whether or first, or bottom or top
Now is it stop hip-hop or hip-hop don't

You need to protect your
You the kind of that be chasing checks
Me and my crew crash through and get enough
Basic bet takers I'm beyond average thinker
mc down, like my name was Dr.Shrinker

Passion fake MC's, wearing MC's
On the brink MC's, you need to MC's
Bout to MC's, don't even speak MC's
Cause half the shit you kicking weak MC's

One, two, crew
What we bout to do have no clue
Three, four, tear the door
And give the party people what they here for

One, two, crew
we bout to do brothers have no clue
Three, four, tear down the
And give the party people what they came for

I razor sharp with mindset, sunset sun
I admit, I used to bite people's shit I was young
Back in 83rd, before my style was
Now my connection with the is preferred

Primo, my AC, 310, the first confidential, inscribed my
The Z A K I and R
in submarine words near and far
'Cause I'm too hot to handle, too cold to
And I'm a any nigga that sounds like me

Yo yo, breeze the trees, feel the flavor at ease
of melodies, typewriter MC's
They on their Q's and P's within my
Department of rhyme ability

Keep the biters on lock, rock no
shock, rhyme around the clock
From dawn to dusk, my is mack truck
You schmucks is out of luck, I'm ready to run

Aye yo I'm lampin, I'm lampin, I'm stone lampin
High pitch, beat drumsticks like Lionel
The champion, fly shit, the
eleven with dark skin and tantrum

Handsome never, not as a kid
The girls to say "Yo his nose is too big!"
Yo, get bruised, kid ghetto blues, you'll never refuse shit
The show's good, MC's like rosewood
I'm shrinking you rap characters into miniatures
I'll blast ten of you while my rhymes senators

Through TV monitors, brains and glass dinner
Verbal vinegar for you down at the salad bar
The combat that's making mom mad
I'm feeling a for burning his mom bad

One, two, Jurassic
What we to do brothers have no clue
Three, four, tear the door
And give the people what they came here for

One, two, crew
What we bout to do have no clue
Three, four, tear down the
And give the party people what came here for