Luyện nghe bài hát B - Boy Bouillabaisse

There's a girl there
With brown hair
I her to the place
I threw the in her face
off her shirt
off her bra
Took off her
You know what I

Right about now I'd like to dedicate this song out to my homie Mike D
Get on the mic, on the mic
get on the mic, get on the mic, Mike

Let's be real and don't the issue
The rhymes are dope an M.C. you must to
People say they been missin' me and missin' you
Get on the mic and let's show like we used to
You say fuck that yo fuck this
I'm the king Ad-Whammy you're Butkus
One-half and another half soul
His name's Mike D. not Fat Jelly Roll
Got busy in Frisco around in Fresno
Got on your girlie cause you know she never says no

get on the mic, just get on the mic
G-get on the mic, get on the mic

Well, D. is a special individual
Pulling out knots and pulling in
Go to the movies get the
The cholos riding and low
Mike on the mic and bust the solo
Mike my stromie be so selfish
Get on the mic you know you eat shellfish

4:00 a.m. I've got the Dr. Hfuhruhurr Ale
I've got nothing to lose so I'm on the third rail
Groggy and fried I'm headed for the station
D-Train to Coney Island vacation
Dedicated to the in the back of the 1 train
They'll be out windows high on cocaine
And then I jump the turnstile I lost my last
Ride the cars pissing, smoking
Head for the last car light blackout
Policeman told my homeboy "yo put that out"
You know you light up when the go down
And you read the New York Post Fulton St. downtown
Same faces every day but you don't their names
people going places on the D-Train

Stop that train, I get on

it
Trench-coat going to work
And be pulling a train like Captain Kirk
gangsters paying their debts
I a bullet in the lung from Bernie Goetz
Overworked and underpaid staring at the
Prostitutes' caught in the slide doors
Now tuck between the stations
And it seems like an
Sweating sardines in a flophouse fraternity
Fifty-dollar fine for the peace
The tortoise your Lees are creased
Hot cup of coffee and the donuts are
night and Jamaica Queen's funkin'
Elevated never gonna conform
over the diner where I always get my toast warm
Bust into the conductor's and busted out rhymes
Over the loud about the hard times
Sat from a man readin' El Diario
Riding the down from El Barrio
Went from the station straight to Orange
I brought a hot dog from who - George

M.C. for I am and do
The A is for Adam and the lyrics,
So as pray and hope and the message is
And I am living in the that I have dreamt
Because I'm down with the three, the unstoppable
Me and Adam and D. born to M.C.
And my body and and mind are pure
Not polluted or or damaged beyond cure
Just lyrics I to you recited
Arrested, bailed but cuffed and
Enter the arena as I take stage
The lights set low and the night has of age
Take the microphone in as that I am a professional
Speak my to the crowd and the ed. is special
For I am a bard but not the one
I'm am the king and is my castle
in realms of now but vidi those of the past
Seen a from ahead and I don't think it's gonna last
And you can bet ass

I drop the L. I'm skiing
I'm and peaking
I put the skis on the roof almost single weekend
Can't stop the mind-fuck when rolling along
Can't stop the smooth runnin' the shit's running strong
my bindings, the lion with wings
Preaching his in the B. Boy sing
I am one with myself as I turn to
Prefer the to reality
I prefer my life don't need no other man's
Don't need no crazy lifestyle with stress and
But it's good to have to be a king for a day
Or for a week, or for a year, or for a and a day
what may

I'm fishing with my and I'm fishing for trout
Mix the Bass Ale with the Stout
for a line inside my brain
And out at the world through my window pane
Every day has many colors 'cause the glass is
Everything has but remains the same
So once again the mirror raised and I see myself as as day
And I am going to the of my ultimate destiny
Feeling as though were testing me
He who sees the end the beginning of time
Looking forward through all the
Is, was and always be
the prophetic sections of the pages

He's in for the Disco Day

Hello

New York, New York, it's a hell of a
You know the is up and I'm Brooklyn down
Because they don't know my name they know my initials
Building bombs in the attic for elected
I quit my job, I cut my
You know I cut my 'cause I don't care
You to get slick, you bust a little chuckle
You're get smacked with my gold-finger knuckle
'Cause being as fly as me is something you thought of
You'll be sticking up old ladies with the hand gun or the
I'm a Buffalo Soldier, broader Broadway
Keep keepin' on I don't care they say
I play my stereo loud it my neighbors
I want to enjoy the fruits of my
'Cause I am the holder of the 3-pack
If you open the book then you will get your slapped
I am the of the 3-pack Bonanza
If you ask a question you will get the
Her breast I saw I I felt
M-O-N-E-Y, the
I stay at home just like a
I got the but I don't got the permit
You why?
You got a boyfriend and his name is Slick
Annabelle caught the shrimpy limp dick
I ride around 'cause my ride is fly
I a man in Brooklyn
to watch him die

He thrusts his fists against the post and still he sees a ghost
He thrusts his fists against the post and insists he sees a ghost
She's slippin' through his fingers as movin' out to the coast
He thrusts his fists against the post and still insists he sees a

Well if your world was all black and if world was all white
Well then you wouldn't get much out of life now right
Nicknamed Shamrock but my name is not
Girlies on the tippy my homie is famous
My is not O'Houigheighi nor is it Brian
If I that I was weak now, you know I'd be lyin'
Suckers try to they try to pursue it

You explain to a musician, they it but they can't do it

I got Chinese and Chinese suits
much Buddha and smokin' much boots
More updated on the lingo
My favorite New York Knick was Wingo
Met a girl at a and I gave her my card
Man, you know that it Napoleon Bonaparte
Peepin' out the colors I be on Cezanne
They call me Mike D Joe Blow the Man
Your face turns red as your glass of
That you on my lyrics as you wasted my time
You be with me, you should drop that bum
'Cause I got more flavor than Fruit Gum
With that big butt of yours
I'd to butter your muffin I'm not bluffin'
Serve you on a platter like stuffin'

Here's one for y'all to peep
called M-I-K-E on the M-I-C

I met this last night with a peculiar cackle
I laid the bait and then she took the
Had too much to drink at the Red
Now the room is spinning around the blades of a helicopter
I met a girl that was too finicky
If the press has their way then going to finish me
You might know this but you've been this see
If I ate spinach I'd be called Spinach D
I light like cats shed fur
Ride around town Raymond Burr
I'm so high that they call me Your
So if you know me then pardon my shyness
I live in the Village wherever I go I to
I keep my friends around so I have someone to to
I play my music loud because you it's got clout to it
a trip it's got a funky beat and I can bug out to it

DJ
When Mike D's in the house, you gonna do
I go
Adrock's in the house, you gonna do
I go
MCA's in the house, what you gonna do
I go
When Hurricane's in the house, what you do
He AWOL
St. in the house, what's you gonna do
Home-1, what you do
Got busy in the house, you gonna do
Bros. in the house, what you gonna do
Warren G. in the house, you gonna do
Lou Gains in the house, you gonna do
crew, what you gonna do
John in the house, what you gonna do
Killa in the house, what you gonna do
Jannet J. in the
Pat Bain's in the
Richard in the house
night Amsterdamn
Now I want you all to break down
To all the
All the