Luyện nghe bài hát High School Rock

Wake up your mind black people ill
Superior use superior skill
We can any congressional bill at will
The hip hop nation prevail
all in society with inner city philosophy
The hip hop in me come out or die to lock in me no doubt
properly
I to shout out splat out approximately
three single syllable words per
like I am God you are God, we are God, it
Time to sell it in a battle, I'll never jet it
Like a shot to ya head I'm in your mind
constant conscience lyrical rhyme
At the end of time, I'll be in my
the sign, men, rhymin
like an oratorical
I look but I'm climbin
Newsflash the latest findin
Ya whole environment created in ya mind and in ya
displays art
The highest level of mental expression, your part

I'm the intelligent on the mic (x3)
knows

All these tryin to be large
with their two car just like El DeBarge
played out, fadin out, over
Talk to ya broker, time to give back Range Rover, soldier!
I told ya woe onto the perpetrator
like a neighbour stealin all ya flavour
Danger danger ya better ya thinkin
Check what you eatin and drinkin, ya is stinkin
with the stench of a snitch information, leakin
up with the enemies of Kris speakin
But I'm in 1999
feelin fine while most MCs will be out of sight and outta
Rewind cos I got a bit of time
will be wiped out by pain after turpentine
I find my rhymes combines mobility,
positivity, of sensibility
to a vicinity, engulfin your facility
O silly me, killin me I begin to see stupidity
I rock way hard you get wit me
or go wit me or wit me
Frankly, this is wrong, people,
Forget ya little off-the-head
It's way past bedtime, for the tenth time
forget ta get mine
I went the park with my arc in the dark
A simple spark, the little Park now I'm in ya heart
Everytime you think I'm comin one way, I come way
If you ain't got no fly rhymes, say
Run away, run away, run away....little boy
Like the TAT I terrorise your toys
is what I hear
when you shout your rhyme the atmosphere
The master's here!

(x2)

Now which wants their title tooken, defended
I see my it's open-ended
I can move around like ya booty ass sound, beginner
What You couldn't be an Apollo Amatuer Night winner?
Now the teacher you
Don't you know I am that lyrical gate
You'll get like the sleeper
No peep tha, no peep mine, no peep this hard
that keeps the party floatin a foetus, meanwhile
you hold your head, you can't belive godchild
This *?sins?* ya and because you're not fertile
or {pronounced "fertil"}
Your reflex's slow a turtle
Yeah my you circle from papers and journals
Without rehearsal, *?mic is first all?* is the
I verse, I sua
a million children
in Tiananmen
Willing and start illing, comin thru the
Enough of this let's start building