Luyện nghe bài hát Verbal Clap

You out Louder
Well clap your hands to what he's
On jack

NYC gave you the ball, so how you hate us?
We creators of East Coast stars
If you ask me I'll tell you no comp
But I'm still humble, even though I crumble halls
Some call 'em songs, I call 'em from me
That take to cook
So some feel free in sayin' we don't hunger for beats

Not that we not hungry, just in what we eat
Keep off the mind and keep weight off the body
All you gotta do is keep my out your mouth
And stop frownin' you hostile
You know that it's a booger rubbin' up your nostril
Nigga how you figure you can play rap game without the backbone?
It's Maseo, Dave, wonder why, givin' what you Holmes

Aiyyo yo'self for the neutron, bitch
This is eighty-six, let neo-rap go
We present these flares to put fire to your
To lay smoke rusty exhaust pipes
We run mics, let run the marathon
Yo raise that son, we raisin' these kids
Get claps when curtains close, left
Up your stamina baby, bring some breath, S A T smart, part ese

in like tone, street niggaz get grown
Acquire more couth you get poofed
Or get some shells sent to your mic booth
Excuse, my but when peace don't work
See this gon' work, cock aim and shoot
the constitutional right to bear arms
Arms and bare on mics, make fans unite
and white folks involved, black man get on yo' job

Well your hands to what he's doing
On tempo

go beat for beat, and rhymes for rhymes
(Put all the aside)
bring your beats, and bring your rhymes
(Put all the aside)
Let's go beat for beat, and for rhymes
(Put all the aside)
Just bring beats, and bring your rhymes
(Put all the aside)

The heavyweight L.I. with no date, of expiration
On this fate on the mic, them birthday comin'
I'm on by niggaz I love most
So what threat could you possibly pose when I'm on coast?
So raise your or your glasses
way there'll be a toast in the air
Markin' the return of bare minimums, you to learn
Get your verbs right when you to clap

See gun powder caliber rap'll tip hats like gentlemen do
Smash tenements and
Bow-tie papers stacked
Pay the resident tax or get street sweeped
Front row, or the cheap seats
I dodge ricochets like ram trucks, you slow to pull it
And I you wanna top the billboard chart
Man I toast these and then pop like pop-tarts

go beat for beat, and rhymes for rhymes
(Put all the aside)
bring your beats, and bring your rhymes
(Put all the aside)
Let's go beat for beat, and for rhymes
(Put all the aside)
Just your beats, and bring your rhymes
(Put all the aside)

Well clap hands to what he's doing