Luyện nghe bài hát Two Scoops of Raisins

Yo man, I'm man
Ay whatchu man? You want some breakfast or somethin'?
I want a lil', lil' somethin', yeah, yea and cereal or somethin'
Somethin' man, just a little food, y'know?
Mmm, I don't know man, see what I got in my cabinet
(Ay)
Hold on, let me see what I got in my
Somebody hit me with a little, or groove, knahmsayin'?
Yeah, food, uhh

When you
you wish
Upon a
a star
To follow
To what?
And you are
And you are
over here, party over there

Look, I made ya look, ya crook
Then picked your pocket, watch me
Guiness I'm a Menace, so call me hip-hop's Dennis
So open and say
(Ahh)
And slide my yolk, in your throat, and watch ya choke
On the uh, the ah, the uh, the Daddy

Long Daddy money, if my name was Sunny
I'd share a scoop, runnin' shit like
You can call me Barney 'cuz I took your pebbles
Dibble like an office on Top Cat, top that, I'm fat
Drop the loop, then a hoop ya like a hula
To school a I present, a church to repent
I get you 'n like jeans, you're just a hill of beans
I'm all that jazz, and I kick, kick, kick,

The razzamatazz, oh please, oh
Just give me just one blast
I gett off like Prince, but I have to show my ass
Pass the rest, like a test, if you slip then get ripped
With your handicapped pass route, and tales from the
I whip on that ass like ba-bay
The is good, goobely, goo, ask Gravy

Or LaMont, or Rollo, down at the,
Come follow me now I don't
(Bo, Sue?)
En Vogue, be tellin' me ya don't go
When it's for show, everyone says
(Yea)

Ho, ho, be a slider
(Ho, ho)
'Cuz I never slip, it like a Damme Van flip
So don't come with your 'cuz you're just a Menudo
Emcee chewed like vegetables

Ahh, cabbage is a cabbage, a is a lettuce
I'ma tear this whole into scraps
I bust raps, perhaps caps, and trap the tracks
the max, for the minimum, not the minimum for the max
Get more sex than Wilt the Stilt so you can me the Stiltest
You're shorts like Arnold, so what chu talkin bout, Willis?

'Bout
Willis
Willis talkin' about nuthin'
It's different
Let's get back to umm, foods
Because it's, in the mornin'

Well, you can your wheaties
You can your flakes
You can have kix
And you can have trix
You can have poundcakes
You can your loops
But you still gotta get your two

To the hot raw, I'm rollin', rollin'
Bowlin', spare me, fuss ya hushed mush
Lush alcohol's excessive like a
Movin' on up progressive, one for your brain, cell
And when I get through, you say,"Aww, man"
Styles I free won't, stop 'til the end
I go on and go on with the pen
Get a max of funk, or sunk

One blow, and emcees are gone with the
the dumber rhyme, I'm not a print
But I'm fresh, heatin' up the summertime, summer rhyme
I'm a dime a dozen, but I you buzzin'
a bee, a dozen attempts is in the toilet
'Cuz I flush the dime and I'm not a
'Cuz I Rhyme, a rhyme
If I with Rakim, you run for cover brother

But I kick it with Petey I'm just another mother
(Sucker)
Blo pop
(It's blo pop time)
It's blo pop
(It's blo pop time)

In the mix, the dimension, J.B., and
It's seven, not six, my shirt
But I wear, I I wear it well like DeBarge
To the finish, makin' ya eye pop, you ain't spinach
Then it's, to let you know
We count it up, one two and fo'

Uhh, it up
Nah we gon' count it
Nah man, we're gonna it up
Mmm, let's get to that umm
tip though, the breakfast tip
Food tip? Well, you check
you know what we need
What can I

You can have your
You can your bran
You can your puffs
You can have pebbles
You can have your
And you can have your
But you still get your two scoops

Around and 'round and upside and upside down we go
ahh, I'ma sneak in the front row
Not Jethro, I'm not a Jethro, on row
I don't wear Monie's hat, but I was a in the middle
Hey, diddle, you can Kibble a Bit
I take a squat, and MC's be sayin', "Ooh, shit"
Yo, I bucktown into fucktown
You're a field goal kid, and I'm a touchdown

With the next to the next joint, so tell Spike about it
I'm all that, your bitch be writin home about it
Shout it out, praise the Lord,
could be love, but umm, don't let em fool ya
'Cuz when I do ya, come down come down me come
Yeah, sorry Sugar but umm, I gotta run
Run Jesse Run, keep alive
I'm with the B-boys, fuck the Jackson 5

You jive-ass turkey, be
You can get ill, but don't, hurt me, me
Or urk me 'cuz see I'll outsmart you like the
B-boys at the of hard knocks, in a circle
the sess blunt, yeah stud, you ain't know?
I wanna go bang, I said, bang-o, bang-oh

Or jingle jangle on the jaw
Hip-hip, hooray, oh now you wanna be all
Don't push or pull, or you'll see, wreck it out
MC's be checkin' in but don't be checkin' out
I em out on the canvas
So click your twice and take your ass back to Kansas