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 thangs in check
I used to run some call girls and 'em just for fun
But you should see how the can make us pimps 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 easy to me, I have to hit 'em
Roll 'em up to Canada so could wit 'em
Show them fake ID's so we could step the border
We hit the hotel, and like that, I'm takin' orders
Two dollars and she'll make you lose your morals
We must increase the profit if the trick wants to get
Rappers like to claim 'bout how they the pimpin' game
How can you run the ladies you're only 17?
I from experience when I say "Turn around!"
'Cause I was rollin' heavy one female took me down
She was 17 but she was lookin' 21
5'9", street-tough and packin'
But I was slippin' 'cause the game was soft
Baby took a trick out to the so he could toss
911 is crazy on my pager
I pushed the trunk button and I the 12 gauge
Back to the 'cause I'm down to get my mail
Smoke a trick quick if beatin' on my female
Kickin' down the door and ain't in the suite
I never let my agents take them tricks out on the
If I slippin' then the psycho couldn't kill her
Body face down, floatin' in the green river

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

Verse 2: (Mix-a-Lot)
You can't slip when you're rollin' through the hood your strap (Hell
no!)
Especially when rims are dipped in gold and lookin' phat (Yeah!)
'Cause it's the 1990's and you got to be
Or a nigga like the roll 'em up and keep 'em scared (Huhh??)
High nigga rollin danks through my set (Don't do it!)
Drops 6-4, gives my no respect (None!)
But when we starts the 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 slippin' on the track (Yeah!)
Came through servin' but you went out served (Peace!)
Got you for your Daytons we beat you to the curb (Huh!)
Now it's time to them thangs and come up on a grip (Yeah!)
Trade him for ounces so that I can clock my chips (Get paid!)
Say it's 'bout the and not about the fame (Yep!)
But 'till I let you know, the E-D-O-G is my (Word.)
So now I'm addicted to the jackin' and the slangin'
Cross court saggin' and my shows I'm bangin'
But if you think I'm gonna stop this life, well wrong!
I don't care about your muscles 'cause my 9 is pluggin' (Ha ha!)
So we go again, another jack in effect (Yeah!)
A candy-painted Blazer chased the driver, him wreck (Get him!)
And if he tries to run I just smoke him on the spot
But little do I know, there's a lesson to be
The pulled 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
to my temple, so I know I'm gonna die!
(Lil' cake-ass gang nigga, you can't for these D's! See ya!)
*gun cocking, shot* (C'mon, let's go, nigga!)
(Shouldn't have been a sucka, nigga!) closing*
(Punk motherfucker!! Yeah!) *car off*

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