Luyện nghe bài hát You Can't Slip

Verse 1: Sir
You can't slip, the pimpin' game is not about the sex
You gots to be a businessman to them thangs in check
I to run some call girls and pimp 'em just for fun
But you should see how the can make us pimps r-r-run!
in '82 I used to roll a gold Caddy
Females were my business, you could call me the Daddy
But pimpin' came so to me, I didn't have to hit 'em
'em up to Canada so Johnny's could wit 'em
Show them fake ID's so we could across the border
We hit the nearest hotel, and like that, I'm takin'
Two thousand dollars and she'll make you lose morals
We increase the profit if the trick wants to get oral
Rappers to claim 'bout how they know the pimpin' game
How can you run the ladies when only 17?
I speak from when I say "Turn around!"
'Cause I was rollin' heavy 'till one took me down
She was only 17 but she was 21
5'9", street-tough and packin'
But I was slippin' 'cause the pimpin' was soft
took a trick out to the suite so he could toss
911 is crazy on my pager
I pushed the trunk button and I load the 12
Back to the 'cause I'm down to get my mail
Smoke a quick if he's beatin' on my female
Kickin' down the door and nobody in the suite
I never let my agents them tricks out on the street
If I wasn't slippin' the psycho couldn't kill her
Body found face down, floatin' in the green

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

Verse 2: (Mix-a-Lot)
You can't slip you're rollin' through the hood without your strap (Hell
no!)
when your rims are dipped in gold and lookin' phat (Yeah!)
'Cause the 1990's and you got to be prepared
Or a nigga like the roll 'em up and keep 'em scared (Huhh??)
High sightin' 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 are gettin' broken up, a jack move! (Give it up!)
A jack 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 gettin' (Peace!)
Got you for Daytons then we beat you to the curb (Huh!)
Now it's to slang them thangs and come up on a grip (Yeah!)
Trade him for some ounces so that I can clock my (Get paid!)
Say it's 'bout the dividends and not about the (Yep!)
But 'till I let you know, the is my name (Word.)
So now I'm straight to the jackin' and the slangin'
Cross court and my flag shows I'm bangin'
But if you think I'm stop this life, well you're wrong!
I don't care about your muscles 'cause my 9 is pluggin' (Ha ha!)
So here we go again, another jack in (Yeah!)
A candy-painted Blazer the driver, make him wreck (Get him!)
And if he tries to run then I just smoke him on the
But little do I know, a lesson to be taught
The brother pulled an AK and now I'm "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, shot* (C'mon, let's go, nigga!)
(Shouldn't have been a sucka, nigga!) *door
(Punk motherfucker!! Yeah!) *car off*

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