Luyện nghe bài hát Who's the Champion

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

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

Verse RZA

Put away your heaters, throw up dick beaters
Accurate blows to his nose his eyes closed to a centimeter
Bitches on the fences wonderin what the the suspense is
I land heavy in the corner of the park fences
Knocked his mouthpiece front got locked inside my knuckle
He grabbed the buckle, attempt to catch me with a couple
of low blows to the nuts, on ringside was as a giant
your 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 of Bartyle and James had him startled
A threw it caught him in his head, at full throttle
He fell, the glass crashed, he saved by the bell
was his ass black
So when it comes to combat
We can take it to hand or go beyond that
Do you my gat to make the contact?
Retirin cats who lack the heart to fire
[We take all overboard]

Chorus:

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

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

Verse Ghostface Killer

Yo!
I had to run up on King at Devine, for his shines
He saw the and caught my mailbox for eighty dimes
He saw me stashin, like a pipe-link for fiends
I held it down the finger fly miraculous King
Peep the heavy small get the camoflouge
master in charge, pushin through ery buildin, sippin egg nog
Niggaz my status God body carry big batters
Fiends me for my blue bags, besides smackin crabs
and mine, this bitch Sha cat, gotta get his back bent
What the just made him fuck with my intelligent?
Back to Polly and I heard noise we pack a two twelve
There go Shamel, faggot made a sale
He's sellin my shit, I should fire out his ass
his bones in half and watch the stock market crash
I walked up on him, he had the to say Peace God
Ain't nuttin God, you stole it now we out in the streets
your shit off, nigga you soft, back up off
Youse a nigga, I'm a sever fig you with a gloss
I snuffed him, a crazy left and I cuffed him
don't like ugly so I held back from bustin him
I the burn off, he caught me from the blind side
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 the deadarm, Shamel fell to his knees and
He started wheezin, losin his breath from trees and
I'm breathin, bleedin because it's frontin season
Now I got that belt, international/national
Worldwide, I let slide