Luyện nghe bài hát Two Scoops of Raisins

Yo man, I'm man
Ay want man? You want some breakfast or somethin'?
I want a lil', lil' somethin', yeah, yea milk and cereal or
Somethin' man, just a little food, y'know?
Mmm, I know man, let's see what I got in my cabinet
(Ay)
Hold on, let me see I got in my cabinet
Somebody hit me with a little, baseline or groove,
Yeah, food, uhh

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

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

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

The razzamatazz, oh please, oh
Just give me one more blast
I gett off Prince, but I don't have to show my ass
Pass the rest, like a test, if you slip then get ripped
With handicapped pass route, and tales from the crypt
I whip on that ass like ba-bay
The Sense is good, goobely, goo, ask

Or LaMont, or Rollo, down at the,
Come follow me now I know
(Bo, Sue?)
Even En Vogue, be tellin' me ya go
When time for show, everyone says
(Yea)

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

Ahh, is a cabbage, a lettuce is a lettuce
I'ma tear this whole joint into
I raps, perhaps caps, and trap the wack tracks
the max, for the minimum, not the minimum for the max
Get sex than Wilt the Stilt so you can call me the Stiltest
You're takin' shorts like Arnold, so what chu 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 have your
You can your kix
And you can have trix
You can your poundcakes
You can your loops
But you still gotta get your two

To the hot raw, I'm rollin', rollin'
Bowlin', spare me, ya hushed mouth mush
Lush excessive like a Jefferson
Movin' on up progressive, one time for your brain,
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 the wind
the dumber rhyme, I'm not a print
But I'm fresh, up like the summertime, summer rhyme
I'm a dime a dozen, but I keep you
Like a bee, a attempts is in the toilet
'Cuz I the dime and I'm not a leader
'Cuz I Busta Rhyme, a
If I kick with Rakim, you run for cover

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

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

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

You can your life
You can have bran
You can have your
You can have your
You can your krunch
And you can have your
But you gotta get your two scoops

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

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

You jive-ass turkey, be
You can get ill, but don't, hurt me, me
Or urk me see I'll outsmart you like the Urkel
at the school of hard knocks, in a circle
Pass the sess blunt, yeah stud, you ain't
I go bang, I said, bang-o, bang-oh 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, I'ma it out
be checkin' in but they don't be checkin' out
I leave em out on the
So click your heels and take your ass back to Kansas