Luyện nghe bài hát Twelve

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

One, two, Jurassic
What we bout to do brothers have no
Three, four, down the door
And the party people what they came here for

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

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

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

Pumpernickle blow words like snot
When echo, some duck and hide like Doc Jeckyl
Like Don Rickles, I'm rhymes that stop heckles
all them bombaclot specials

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

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

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

Passion fake MC's, wearing mink
On the brink MC's, you need to think
Bout to sink MC's, don't speak MC's
half the shit you kicking sounding 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 came for

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

I razor sharp with mindset, 'til sun
I admit, I used to people's shit when I was young
in 83rd, before my style was preferred
Now my with the word is preferred

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

Yo yo, through the trees, feel the flavor at ease
Degrees of melodies, typewriter
They on Q's and P's within my vicinity
of correctional rhyme ability

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

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

never, not even as a kid
The girls used to say "Yo his is too big!"
Yo, you'll get bruised, kid ghetto blues, you'll never shit
The show's good, pinching MC's like
I'm shrinking you rap characters dye-cast miniatures
I'll blast ten of you while my rhymes senators

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

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

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