Luyện nghe bài hát Heartbeat

Alright move back from the ropes
If you don't move
We're gonna this music off
And my word, move back

Word is bond let's get this goin'
Word up, it's the Funk Doc in the
Say yeah, hell yeah
Say yeah, fuck yeah

Word up, it's the Funk Doc you don't stop
my man KRS you don't stop
It's the Angie you don't stop
the hah haha ha haha hah

It's the Butter Pecan speakin' deletin'
Other radio jocks that they competin'
They like candy, I'm hot like pepper
Big up to but my name is Angie

Martinez, what a microphone fiend is
Steppin' up with my, Adidas
Through your speakers,
Boriquas and all hip-hop rhyme

You may I'm crazy right but I'm crazy hype
this nice y'all, everytime Angie grab the mic
I jams it right tonight, not the
But peep the style of this Rican Goddess

yo yo yo, stop the music
Aiyyo back up off the ropes, man, up
Yo get the off the ropes
Now aiyyo yo yo, KRS-One, come the selector

It's been a long time but we made it, you
You frustrated 'cause these MC's in trainin'
Skills on the mic for a save it
Pullin' rap so that others can't make it

can't fake it in front of KRS they naked
That old MC trend I'm here to break it
The conceptional multidirectional
Hot in ninety-seven so I I'm flexible

Rap stress so yes I guess it's medical
All your and rapin' is still theoretical
Redman, you know you must
Redman, you you gots to understand

Angie, rockin' the one BDP
right now at Hit Factory

One two hah and you don't
Kris and Angie with the ultimate
One two hah and you quack
Funk Doc smoke weed and don't smoke crack

Hahaha, hah and you don't
Hoohahhahah and you don't
I rock jams like, Samsonites with
Stage two system and flood the lights

The lyrical, fo'-fo's off like suppose
Reggie Reg is on the radio
Hahh, huh, the ooh-child too
Caps peeled, In My Bed like Dru Hill

'em up 'cause I feel my spot can't be touched
No for the Pauline jack, hit the clutch
Shotgun what? It's the exalted
Ruler of the Buddha, the make my pockets

out like a tumor, for the consumers
I get busy with La Pluma, the bomb
To make you sooner, certified lunatic
My click run deeper than Charlie

Kahunas, raw for the able key
All the hood like them Crooked I coolers
maneuvers, from Jerz to Vancouver
Back to the Bronx with heartbeats looped up

I like Kris, funk abyss
Like a phone chauvenist with a on the wrist
Sike, I can it, less I slaughtered
Three platinum and none of 'em prerecorded

KRS-One need to be runnin' for
So Butter Pecan Rican them to get off his