Luyện nghe bài hát Victory! (Come Forward)

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Ours are the cries that life in the concrete

Ours are the that splash genius at God's feet

Ours are the prayers that poetry through drum beats

[ VERSE 1: Ali ]
Step inside the mind of a soon-to-be
paramilitary
Brother Ali exist to the scripture, it's never read
Whoever said this underground shit is dead
Must have fallen on his
Spent my lifetime
Writin rhymes I remind rappers of that scared them as children
call me show stopper
No opera singer has hit the pitch, I spit my flow out of
directly by the source of all knowledge
You don't affect me till you're forced to draw
me as a voice amongst scholars
Who speak deep to thee, move the from your eye lids
Make your flutter
Get it right, my inner light cast on the sun, brother
I'm the rubber meets the concrete
It's a cold world, not sayin bring your own heat
I'm just don't sleep
I'm walkin with Allah the day that I die
And the pens have been and the pages have dried
And a big smoke wrote my name in the sky
Politicin with the angels knowin they would
Got the lungs of a cyclone, of a python
The reason why your favorite MC sleep with the on
Right on, brother, we def as
Not 'deaf' like (What?) but like (WHAT!)
From the depths around the where my name's spoken
We here to get our brains and our chains broken
Watch me walk around the planet with the notion
His adversaries the pain broke him
But we run up in a stadium with
Two and a mic and take a crowd hostage
And the first item on my list of demands
Is that all these freedom start liftin they hands

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To my freedom and the graffiti writers
And the people like us - forward
And to the torch carriers Arabic
Ridin on charriots - come forward
To my political prisoners, listeners
Who this - come forward
And to the shakers and the home makers
our own saviors - come forward

[ 2: Brother Ali ]
Me and my are signed, sealed, delivered, incorporated
to your by Rhymesayers Entertainment
You got to it, we not complacent
We came for your and left your face bent
And me, mister Ali is the stomp-down-beat-kicker
Who the streets with the so real philosophy
Until I fulfill there's no real stoppin me
I'm the bomb, believe me
Opponents up missin and they all beneath me
I my soldiers need me, they call and beep me
I the streets freely with chalk beneath me, boy
We gettin it on
Act hard and I probably make you strip to your
Dissin your and feel you mouth to fist when you yawn
Nibblin on a till the gristle is gone
I stand and sing from atop Mount
I am a king, ain't got my kingdom yet
And my anthem ring from the Congo to set
I'm Alfred Hitchcock with my
Pourin On Beats till the trumpet is blown
Coffins, I em when I'm up in the zone
Fortune favors the and press on is the motto
Cast on the sun with my bravado

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