Luyện nghe bài hát Word On The Sreet

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

East to West, the world see me blow. Syndicated, like 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, it come. Ra's chillin', top buildin' spot's still feelin' him.

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

It matter where you at, O.T. or on the same block I rep'.
(You know!) All come from the Struggle. (I know!)
You understand 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 on the streets...
.. Is the world got our back, so we NEED... To send LOVE 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. still on fire, like I puff with dreads.

"Studio-Gangster-Talk-Tough" is dead. My 16's a 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 come from the Struggle. (I know!)
You understand my lingo. So, no matter, wherever, I 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 wherever we go!

It's Hip-Hop, when DJ's throw it on in the club, and watch... Mami's drop and start warmin' it up. They get hot. Bartender 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 audience bump, till the cops run in the spot, I'm wanted for drugs.

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

The God stay 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, or day time. Like a mobster sprays 9's, I'm a monster, ain't I?

It don't matter 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 ever pop off, I'm gone' react! You see, the 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.