Luyện nghe bài hát Two Scoops of Raisins

Yo man, I'm man
Ay whatchu want man? You want breakfast or somethin'?
I want a lil', somethin', yeah, yea milk and cereal or somethin'
Somethin' man, a little breakfast food, y'know?
Mmm, I don't man, let's see what 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

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

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

Stroke Long Daddy money, if my name was
I'd a scoop, runnin' shit like rebels
You can call me Barney 'cuz I your fruity pebbles
Dibble like an office on Top Cat, top that, I'm fat
the loop, then a scooper hoop ya like a hula
To a fool I present, a church to repent
I get you guess 'n like jeans, you're just a 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 don't to show my ass
Pass the rest, like a test, if you slip you'll get ripped
With your handicapped pass route, and tales the crypt
I whip on that ass like base
The is good, goobely, goo, ask Gravy

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

Ho, ho, be a slider
(Ho, ho)
'Cuz I slip, kick it like a Damme Van flip
So don't come with judo 'cuz you're just a Menudo
Emcee gettin' chewed like

Ahh, cabbage is a cabbage, a is a lettuce
I'ma tear this joint into scraps
I bust raps, perhaps caps, and trap the wack
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 like Arnold, so chu talkin bout, Willis?

'Bout
Yeah
Willis ain't talkin' nuthin'
It's different
Let's get back to umm, foods
it's, early in the mornin'

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

To keep the hot raw, I'm rollin',
Bowlin', spare me, fuss ya hushed mouth
Lush alcohol's excessive a Jefferson
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, or sunk

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

But I kick it with Petey 'cuz I'm just 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
seven, not six, my shirt extra-large
But I wear, I wear I wear it well like
To the finish, makin' ya eye pop, like you ain't
it's, time to let you know
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 back to umm
tip though, the breakfast tip
Food Well, you just check
'Cuz you what we need
What can I

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

Around and and upside down 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 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

With the next 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,
could be love, but umm, don't let em fool ya
'Cuz when I do ya, come down come after me come
Yeah, Sugar Plums but umm, I gotta run
Run Jesse Run, keep alive
I'm with the B-boys, fuck the Jackson 5

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

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