Luyện nghe bài hát Hip Hop Is Dead (clean)

If hip hop should die before I
I'll put an extended clip of my AK
to every station, murder the DJ
Roll to station, murder the DJ

If hip hop should die I wake
I'll put an extended clip of my AK
Roll to station, murder the DJ
Roll to station, murder the DJ

Hip hop died this mornin'
And dead, she's dead

Yeah, niggaz smoke, laugh, party, and die in the same
Get cash, live fast, their man's mama
Rich-ass niggaz is ridin' with llamas
Revenge in their eyes, and the ganja
Word to the with villain state of minds
Grindin', hittin' Brazilian from behind
Grindin', hittin' Brazilian dimes behind
(Grindin', hittin' Brazilian dimes behind)
Whenever, if ever, I roll up, sown up
Any will tell ya Nas helped grow us up
My face graced promotional Sony trucks
Hundred million in billin', I helped 'em up
Gave my nigga my right, I could gave left
So like my girl Foxy, a went Def
So, nigga, your top ten?
Is it MC
Is it MC

If hip hop should die before I
I'll put an clip inside of my AK
Roll to station, murder the DJ
Roll to station, murder the DJ

If hip hop die before I wake
I'll put an clip inside of my AK
to every station, murder the DJ
Roll to every station, the DJ

Hip hop just this mornin'
And she's dead, she's

The bigger the cap, the the peelin'
Come through, something ill, missin' the
What influenced my Stick-ups and killings
Kidnappings, project buildings, drug
that, why is that?
'Cuz Nas rap is compared to legitimized
'Cuz we love to on ass we gettin'
Most intellectuals only half listen
So you blame jazz musicians
Or David Stern with his NBA fashion
Oh, I they like me in my tee
You ice me, we here for life, B
On my marriage, hip hop's my first wifey
And for that we not it lightly
If hip hop die, we die together
Bodies in the morgue lie
All now

If hip hop should die before I
I'll put an extended clip of my AK
Roll to every station, the DJ
Roll to station, murder the DJ

If hip hop die before I wake
put an extended clip inside of my AK
Roll to every station, the DJ
to every station, murder the DJ

Everybody sound the same, the game
Reminiscin' when it wasn't all
If it got it started
So we all here for the dearly departed
Hip hopper since a
One became a man then a mobster
If the let me get my last swig of Vodka
R.I.P., donate your lungs to a Rasta
Went from turntables to
"Beat Street" to commercials on Mickey D's
From cables to Jacobs
From plain to Botox and face lifts
I'm lookin' over my
It's eighty niggaz from my hood that showed up
And they came to love
Sold out concert, and the doors are closed