Luyện nghe bài hát Word On The Sreet

I the set...
need me, like, "Where he go?" ...To bed.
He's off the heezy, yo! The kid spit, weezy. But, easy? No.
I make it, to read me, graffiti flow...

East to West, the world wanna see me blow. Syndicated, your favorite T.V. show. I get respect, and get a check, from cd's sold. The President, Record Exec', from C.E.O.

Ra's still killin' 'em. Block's; still fillin' 'em. Knots; still peelin' 'em. (HOT!) Still reelin' 'em. Real as them. Drop! Sell millions. Seventh Seal, here it come. Ra's chillin', top buildin' spot's still him.

Papi in Puerto Rico, King Harold. The Bronx; I'm Carlito, the block; I'm Raw Ghetto. Jamaica; I'm Ja', and Rio' know my M.O. Japan; It's, (Kwa tachi gua la Kimo.) - (Japanese??)

It don't where you at, O.T. or on the same block I rep'.
(You know!) All from the same Struggle. (I know!)
You understand my lingo. So, no matter, wherever, I know you got my back. (Yes.) And if it pop off, I'm gone' react! You see, the word on the streets...
.. Is the world got our back, so we NEED... To LOVE wherever we go!

When I'm flowin', my master craft is demographic, growin'. I check the status, then let 'em have it. The chosen; Rakim is classic, time, so far past it. Masses won't grasp it, till I'm in the casket.

I'm zonin'...
I've seen it all, like, "Casualties of War" it happened. Perhaps, my pen is magic. Unloadin'. Mic chokin', smoke, keep clappin', till it's broken. Pop open, like emptyin' a ratchet.

Black-Berry Benzino. Guts is red. Black and Cherry Timb's, and feet, so stuffed with bread. The lee-low. Seein' ya group, like I'm duckin' the Fed's. Ra's still on fire, like I puff dreads.

"Studio-Gangster-Talk-Tough" is dead. My a slug stuck in your head... Enough said. This is for fans, and neighborhood's, celeb's. Baby girl, let's hit the club. Hurry up, get dressed. So, let's go!

It don't where you at, O.T. or on the same block I rep'.
(You know!) All from the same Struggle. (I know!)
You understand my lingo. So, no matter, wherever, I know you got my back. (Yes.) And if it pop off, I'm gone' react! You see, the word on the streets...
.. Is the world got our back, so we NEED... To send LOVE we go!

It's Hip-Hop, when DJ's it on in the club, and watch... Mami's drop and start warmin' it up. They get hot. Bartender puts some more in the cup. Thugs hear it outside, start stormin' the club.

It Don't Stop! Once it's on, we enjoyin' the buzz. Inhale the song in your lungs, it's as strong as a blunt, or raw rocks off of the block. The bump, till the cops run in the spot, like I'm wanted for drugs.

I party Mami's, with Bacardi and they zombies.
Sophisticated hotties, that with me on Ducatis.
Fit bodies in they Armani's, mix with Pilates.
Yeah, they hobby's Papi put tsunami's in their punanys.

The God fly, it ain't hard to aim high. Like I'm armed with a launcher, or a Don on they grind. Ra' displays rhymes, it's the crime, dark or day time. Like a mobster sprays 9's, I'm a monster, ain't I?

It matter where you at, O.T. or on the same block I rep'.
(You know!) All come from the Struggle. (I know!)
You my lingo. So, no matter, wherever, I know you got my back. (Yes.) And if it ever pop off, I'm gone' react! You see, the word on the streets...
.. Is the world got our back, so we NEED... To send LOVE we go!

New City.
Detroit.
ATL.
The Westcoast.
The Midwest...
.. seas.

R. A. K. I. M.