Luyện nghe bài hát You Can't Slip

Verse 1: Sir
You can't slip, 'cause the pimpin' is not about the sex
You gots to be a businessman to keep them in check
I used to run some call girls and 'em just for fun
But you should see how the gangsters can make us r-r-run!
Back in '82 I used to a gold Caddy
Females were my business, you could me the Mack Daddy
But pimpin' came so to me, I didn't have to hit 'em
Roll 'em up to so Johnny's could wit 'em
Show them fake ID's so we could step the border
We hit the nearest hotel, and like that, I'm orders
Two thousand dollars and she'll make you your morals
We must increase the profit if the wants to get oral
Rappers like to claim 'bout how they know the pimpin'
How can you run the ladies you're only 17?
I speak from experience I say "Turn around!"
'Cause I was rollin' heavy 'till one female me down
She was only 17 but she was 21
5'9", street-tough and packin'
But I was slippin' 'cause the game was soft
Baby took a trick out to the suite so he could
911 is crazy on my pager
I pushed the trunk and I load the 12 gauge
Back to the 'tel 'cause I'm to get my mail
Smoke a trick quick if he's on my female
Kickin' down the door and nobody in the suite
I let my agents take them tricks out on the street
If I wasn't slippin' then the psycho couldn't her
Body found down, floatin' in the green river

You can't slip! Not in this game, chief!
No no, you slip!
You slip.
Yo E-Dog, tell them what's up that slangin' and bangin', chief!

2: E-Dog (Mix-a-Lot)
You can't slip when rollin' through the hood without your strap (Hell
no!)
Especially when your are dipped in gold and lookin' phat (Yeah!)
it's the 1990's and you got to be prepared
Or a like the E'll roll 'em up and keep 'em scared (Huhh??)
High nigga rollin danks through my set (Don't do it!)
6-4, gives my homies no respect (None!)
But we starts the loc'in' up, the fool will start the chokin' up
And bones are gettin' broken up, a move! (Give it up!)
A straight on a fella with a fat sack
Comin' out missin' when you're on the fast track (Yeah!)
through servin' but you went out gettin' served (Peace!)
Got you for your Daytons then we you to the curb (Huh!)
Now it's time to slang them and come up on a grip (Yeah!)
Trade him for some so that I can clock my chips (Get paid!)
Say it's the dividends and not about the fame (Yep!)
But 'till I let you know, the is my name (Word.)
So now I'm straight addicted to the and the slangin'
court saggin' and my flag shows I'm bangin'
But if you think I'm gonna stop this life, well wrong!
I don't care about your muscles my 9 is pluggin' domes (Ha ha!)
So here we go again, another jack in (Yeah!)
A candy-painted Blazer chased the driver, him wreck (Get him!)
And if he tries to run then I smoke him on the spot
But little do I know, there's a lesson to be
The brother an AK and now I'm yellin' "Mayday!"
*gunshots* ("OH SHIT, HE GOT E-DOG!") On the I lay!
He up slowly, then he looks me in my eye
Barrel to my temple, so I I'm gonna die!
(Lil' cake-ass gang nigga, you can't jack for D's! See ya!)
*gun cocking, (C'mon, let's go, nigga!) *sirens*
(Shouldn't have been a sucka, nigga!) closing*
(Punk motherfucker!! Yeah!) skids off*

You slip.
You can't slip. Oh, you pull them pants up, champ. Huh huh.
You can't slip. to be a gangsta, huh?
Well, you slip!
*creepy organ
Yeah, a lot of young brothers is tellin' me how they growin'.
Well, I'm tryin' to tell you where you're goin'.
You slip. Peace.