Luyện nghe bài hát Two Scoops of Raisins

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

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

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

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

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

Or LaMont, or Rollo, at the, Apollo
Come follow me now I know
(Bo, Sue?)
Even En Vogue, be tellin' me ya go
it's 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 with your judo 'cuz you're just a Menudo
Emcee gettin' like vegetables

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

'Bout
Willis
Willis ain't about 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 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 alcohol's excessive a Jefferson
Movin' on up progressive, one time for your brain,
And when I get through, you say,"Aww, man"
Styles that I won't, stop 'til the end
Paper I go on and go on the pen
Get a max of funk, or sunk

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

But I kick it with Petey 'cuz I'm 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 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, time to let you
We it up, one two three and fo'

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

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

and 'round and upside down and upside down we go
Whoa ahh, I'ma 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 a squat, and booty MC's be sayin', "Ooh, shit"
Yo, I bucktown into fucktown
You're just a goal kid, and I'm a touchdown

With the next to the next joint, so tell Spike about it
I'm all that, that your be writin home about it
it out, praise the Lord, Hallelujah
This could be love, but umm, let em fool ya
'Cuz when I do ya, come down down after me come
Yeah, sorry Sugar but umm, I gotta run
Run Jesse Run, keep hope
I'm with the B-boys, fuck the Jackson 5

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

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