Luyện nghe bài hát Two Scoops of Raisins

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

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

Look, I ya look, ya dirty crook
Then your pocket, watch me book
Like Guiness I'm a Menace, so call me hip-hop's
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

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

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

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

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

Ahh, is a cabbage, a lettuce 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 takin' shorts Arnold, so what chu talkin bout, Willis?

Willis?
Yeah
Willis ain't talkin' nuthin'
It's strokes
Let's get back to umm, foods
Because it's, early in the

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

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 I get through, you say,"Aww, hell man"
Styles that I free won't, 'til the end
I go on and go on with the pen
Get a max of funk, attack or

One blow, and emcees are gone the wind
Kickin' the dumber rhyme, I'm not a
But I'm fresh, heatin' up like the summertime, summer
I'm a dime a dozen, but I you buzzin'
Like a bee, a dozen attempts is in the
'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)
It's blo pop
(It's blo pop time)

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

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

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

Around and 'round and upside down and upside 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 monkey in the
Hey, diddle diddle, you can a Bit
I a squat, and booty MC's be sayin', "Ooh, shit"
Yo, I bucktown into fucktown
just a field goal kid, and I'm a touchdown

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

You turkey, a-pit-apitta-a-aperk be
You can get ill, but don't, me, hurt me
Or urk me 'cuz see outsmart you like the Urkel
at the school of hard knocks, in a circle
Pass the sess blunt, yeah stud, you know?
I go bang, I said, bang-o, bang-oh bang-oh

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