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

Verse RZA

Put away your heaters, throw up your dick
Accurate blows to his nose his eyes closed to a centimeter
Bitches on the fences wonderin what the fuck the is
I land heavy uppercuts in the of the park fences
his mouthpiece front teeth 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 du-els
Send Barb for this fuckin jew On a Wire
He couldn't chessbox that's he reached for his ahhs
Brother me on the top of my knot, but he got stopped
When a twelve ounce bottle of and James had him startled
A bitch threw it him in his head, at full throttle
He fell, the glass crashed, he wasn't saved by the
was his ass black
So when it comes to physical
We can take it hand to hand or go that
Do you want my gat to make the
Retirin cats who lack the to fire back?
[We take all crabs

Chorus:

Put the gun son, son matter of fact, shoot the one on one
Hold it down, make sure the head, 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, niggaz to front, one more time?
I'ma show you like this. One on side
This is it word up. We lay you back
We gonna your back, you won't know 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 my mailbox for eighty dimes
He saw me stashin, like a pipe-link for fiends
I held it down the finger fly miraculous King
through the heavy small get the camoflouge
Starks in charge, pushin through ery buildin, sippin egg nog
know my status God body carry big batters
Fiends know me for my bags, besides smackin crabs
and earnin mine, this bitch Sha cat, gotta get his back
What the hell just him fuck with my intelligent?
Back to Polly and I heard some noise we a two twelve
There go Lord Shamel, faggot made a
He's my shit, I should slap fire out his ass
Snap his bones in and watch the stock market crash
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 shit off, nigga you soft, up off
a shady nigga, I'm a sever fig you with a gloss
I snuffed him, threw a left and I cuffed him
don't like ugly so I held back from bustin him
I passed the burn off, he me from the blind side
a nigga jaw, I shot my fifty-two style, and crazy 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 still breathin, bleedin it's frontin season
Now I got project belt, international/national
Worldwide, I let slide