Luyện nghe bài hát Cop That Shit

[Intro: Elliott]
We are the VA
Love to the and the Clipse
To ya we breaking off both of ya legs
The underrated Maganoo, with the unexpected
The run away slave I,
Escaping from all ya fraudulent
Last but not least, the champion, Mr. Mosley

[Verse 1:
It's been a long time, I shouldn't have you
Without little nieces and nephews
To cover all the beats, and the rhymes I been
up, sorry I left you
Thinking of this, I repeating them hits
Like that Aaliyah, Timberlake, or Missy Elliott (Shit)
As you sit by the radio, hands on the tone
As you hear it, up the volume
Jump when you hear them left it off (Off)
Mr. VA to set it off
Well I don't know you heard, and I don't know what ya know
Well my don' told me, (YOU GOT IT! Oh)
So, "Up Jumps the Boogie", let the record (Uh huh)
And put me on like you red
'Cause the big bad Timmy, Maganoo, and Missy
THREE THE HARD WAY!, comin' straight out of Virginia

[Chorus: Elliott]
DJ's in the mix shows you better go to the store and
COP SHIT! (Oh Lord)
And to the giving em bootlegs
We breaking off both of ya legs, COP SHIT! (Oh Lord)
Stop CD's for ya friend and I'ma say it again, nucca
COP SHIT! (Oh Lord)
this the hot shit, out on the streets
So when you hear this CD go and COP SHIT! (Oh Lord)

[Verse 2: Missy
When you say you love me, it doesn't
It into my head as just chit-chatter
You may think I'm egotistical or very free
say I go tell it to, TIMOTHY!
People say I'm whack, but they don't me so
Let them to be me, then they know
I hate when one, pretend to
I despise, those who even try
Sweat between my thighs never stinking
Yo is over, career sinking
I told all of you, like I told all of
say to me be, DICK TO YA CHIN!
In one ear and right out the
"Ayyio you ugly!" yeah ya mother
I don't pay attention, I don't
You ain't got the bait, that it takes to this, huh

[Verse 3:
I'm idol, the highest title, numero uno
I'm not a Rican but I do look up to Vagil
And I got the gift of speech
And a blessing, being from them VA streets
I sense condensed in the form of a poem
If I wasn't writing rhymes I'd be in homes
I'm kinda young, so my gun's my
I'm not nucca do what you gon do to me
I get paid your record is played
To put it short, heh I got it
I'm talented, yes I'm
My uppercut boy get ya lifted
You got cash? man stop
Living off damn every record you cutting
My Magoo and I roll wit two stars
Every CD we split 48
My Magoo and I'm a supadupa star
Every other month I get a new car!