Luyện nghe bài hát Brooklyn Style... Laid Out

Come on y'all and feel the
Get on and make your move
Welcome to the
Brooklyn style, laid out like

Come on y'all and the groove
Get on down and make your
Welcome to the
Brooklyn style, laid out like

I kicks the good, to represent the neighborhood
Where I come from, and that's the place of
Where the are born and bred
And are like eyeballs, two to the head

Well is it Time to represent for the map
where the peeps smoke and like to wear mad gold caps
The addict about to explode
From the 1-1-2, the ill zip code

Parlayin' on the corner, drinkin' 40's shootin'
a Brooklyn thing, aight? You know our steelo
And for those who don't know how it go
Play like a substitute and act like you know

So yo, who wanna set it? You kick your best G
You and your entourage couldn't test me
I represent for the fo'
And if you're not a booty bandit, niggaz can't hang

Come on y'all and feel the
Get on down and your move
to the funkiest
Brooklyn style, laid out this

Now, let's get straight to the point
I represent for this Brooklyn
Baby pah, where we're it to
a few dollars don't mean you gotta forget
Where you from and try to be someone
you're really not and front with what you got

You're gonna be looked at as a black man so keep it real
What type of can I say you on?
Because you musta done to some Grey Poupon, heh
I'm really happy to see you up

But always my man you grew up
In the PJ's all your life, in a broken
alright now
Up in the PJ's all your life, it strong, what

I be the Louis Ave livin', live long lastin'
Bonafied black brother, word to the
Skilled at trades at hand with those who
The man with support and stayed a fan

My dialectic is perfected
In ways you can't imagine rap accepted
Funk'll slam a doper jam, pops
I'm takin like taxes with Uncle Sam
So check out the type of flow
Like water in the Nile, but it's Brooklyn

Come on y'all and the groove
Get on and make your move
to the funkiest
Brooklyn style, laid out like

Yo, this is Big Scoob, no
I'm flippin' on niggaz like little kids on mattress
You know my style, Baby Pah from the
My lyrics so dope, they too fat for local

So hear me out, no doubt, no for screamin'
My boys in the back, clockin' jewels, and they schemin'
Why did they to me, I hit 'em, bow, bu-dow
Knocked out his 'cause the kid was mad fragile

No for beef chief I'm rollin' mad deep
So pick up your teeth, I got him shakin' like a
Not tryin' to scare you, I just aware you
I bet you won't even look at my
(What, what, what)
I you

Yo please, yo I'm nice with these
While guardin' your grill
I'll be beatin' up your
Me and my with the fat tec 9's
with my joint cocked back, in a punk tried to take mines

Where I'm from there's no for hesitation
We and squeeze, now where's the doctor for this patient?
He's drippin' blood and now down to his last breath
But he won't it, cause he knows that my joint is def

The ill, of Brooklyn artist
who the har-dest, regard-less
who you know and where from I pull your file
(How?)
Brooklyn

Come on y'all and feel the
Get on down and make your
to the funkiest
Brooklyn style, laid out this