Luyện nghe bài hát Who's the Champion

Intro: RZA and Ghostface, () and somebody []

Word. Man fuck that
Fuck crab, ass, bitch [Who the live niggaz youknowhatI'msayin?]
[You niggaz how to shoot joints] (Put down the gun son)
[Elmira, Island, coming from Brownsville] (Put down the gun son)
Niggaz to front on my little sister (Put down the gun)
[YouknowhatI'msayin we youknowhatI'msayin?]
[YouknowhatI'msayin? Big Tony Rhome, peace to my man Rhome]
They to, tried to front on this (Put down the gun son)
[RZA respect youknowhatI'msayin? We keep it
Yeah, it out y'all (put down the, put down the gun son)
[Put your guns down, throw your up]
It's on like that y'all word up, Iron Man back
[Represent, you niggaz gotta joints]
Yo it

Verse RZA

Put away your heaters, throw up dick beaters
Accurate blows to his nose his eyes closed to a centimeter
on the fences wonderin what the fuck the suspense is
I land uppercuts in the corner of the park fences
Knocked his mouthpiece front teeth got inside my knuckle
He the belt buckle, attempt to catch me with a couple
of low blows to the nuts, on ringside was as a du-els
Send Barb for this fuckin jew On a Wire
He couldn't chessbox that's he reached for his ahhs
Brother chopped me on the top of my knot, but he got
When a twelve ounce bottle of Bartyle and had him startled
A bitch it caught him in his head, at full throttle
He fell, the glass crashed, he wasn't by the bell
was his ass black
So when it to physical combat
We can take it hand to or go beyond that
Do you want my gat to the contact?
cats who lack the heart to fire back?
[We all crabs overboard]

Chorus:

Put the gun son, son matter of fact, shoot the one on one
it down, make sure the head, sure nuff don't hit the ground
Lampin on the courts, or the square, we can take it there
it son, who the champion?

[It's like that, want to front, one more time?
I'ma you like this. One on each side
This is it word up. We gonna lay you
We gonna rest your back, you won't how to act
it come to bigger, showin and provin
Niggaz styles is wack] Who the champion? it son.

Verse Two: Ghostface

Yo!
I had to run up on this at Devine, for his shines
He saw the stash and caught my for eighty dimes
He saw me stashin, like a for mega fiends
I held it like the finger fly miraculous King
Peep through the heavy get the camoflouge
Starks master in charge, through ery buildin, sippin egg nog
Niggaz know my status God carry big batters
know me for my blue bags, besides smackin crabs
and earnin mine, this bitch Sha cat, gotta get his bent
What the just made him fuck with my intelligent?
Back to and I heard some noise we pack a two twelve
go Lord Shamel, faggot made a sale
He's sellin my shit, I slap fire out his ass
Snap his bones in half and watch the stock market
I up on him, he had the nerve to say Peace God
nuttin Peace God, you stole it now we out in the streets
Take your off, nigga you soft, back up off
Youse a shady nigga, I'm a sever fig you a gloss
I snuffed him, threw a crazy left and I him
Allah don't like ugly so I held from bustin him
I passed the burn off, he caught me from the blind
Tapped a nigga jaw, I shot my fifty-two style, and raw
I had my ice on, tapped a few times, he leakin
De King with the deadarm, Shamel to his knees and
He started wheezin, losin his breath from trees and
I'm still breathin, bleedin because it's frontin
Now I got project belt, international/national
Worldwide, I let slide