Luyện nghe bài hát Slap Them Up

Tellin' it it is, right about now D.J. Premier
Is in the motherfuckin' house and
Ya know what I'm But yo, yo Kris, run that shit
Ya know I'm sayin'? That, that shit, my joint
Run that motherfucker, it's only kid

(Do it, do, do, do it)
Drop that bass line, you want
We give ya lyrics, it out now, one time
(Do it, do, do, do it)

When we in all de dance 'nuff D.J.'s shut up, woy
Gal, ya come slap them up
When we come in all de 'nuff D.J.'s shut up, woy
Ill will, slap up

get ate, get broken like a pretzel
And get if they ever try to step to
They can't take a MC loose lips
Talk a lotta shit but sink no motherfuckin'

Lyrics bigger holes than hollow tips
Watch another rapper get stiff
Just like in church, we pass the
As I over his casket

Fuck it, kick the body right
And say, "See ya, hmm, to know ya"
Got rapper to see
Yo Kris, that ass certainly

If you're get off the pot
Let the original rock the spot
You stand there and jock,
This is ludicrous, what can you do to Kris

Chattin' foolishness, step along quick with that
It's me rippin' this for self, else ya lookin'?
I got more rhymes all the Jamaicans in Brooklyn
So beat it or be seated, Gee I'm mad

boy, you can't see me, run along and make pee-pee
I was rhymes when 'La-Di-Da-Di' was a demo
Admit you on my tip for years and just can't seem to let go
Go, go call your mother, tell her you battle KRS quick
I bet the minute you get home get your ass whipped

Crazy ill mad is what I give 'em
Not a run of the mill 'em, I drill 'em, I got ridiculous
of my styles you can get with 'em
Still um, will um, your crew come get some so I can 'em

Well, I by myself but don't let it fool ya
If I got beef my damn step to ya
We don't play no games, I'll come to your rest
Lift up your shirt and blast you in your chest, well, was fresh

A fad doesn't fill the bill, but mad will
let me have to kill you kid, God forbid still
Greed will lead your need to
But your speed, your

Your is a breach of what I teach
For lyrical styles you're a
If I was I'd say, "You lie like a beech"
Wow, wow, wow, wow, wow, wow, wow, wow, wow, wow

Wow, for a amateur you looked hard
But really a bitch, when you get it together
me, here's my card
Check the list, you lack control, mental behavior
Lyrical talent, imagination and

I got no time for amateur rhyme, you could be
Thinkin' you're hard because you a gangsta T-Shirt
I'll smash wanna-be ass in the deep dirt
Black, come up dizzy sayin', "How da fuck he do dat?"

'Cause you're yappin' you can't be reached
If your ain't Arrested Development, save your speech
to ill, I got mad skills to fill
Not a fake, I got more than Drake's got Tasty Cakes

Gotta be the best Gee, try to test me
You'll get jacked son, if your name is not Jesse
be up front when I meet ya
Peace, uh, I'm the teacher

When we come in all de dance D.J.'s shut up, woy
Gal, will ya come them up
When we come in all de dance 'nuff D.J.'s up, woy
Gal, will ya come slap up

Do it, do, do, do it
Yo South Bronx, South Bronx
South Bronx, South yo, Uptown
Brooklyn's in the house, tell ya 'bout Staten Island
What about Do it, do, do, do it, do it, do, do, do it