Luyện nghe bài hát No Airplay

Yo the brooklyn bridge is gonna y'know?
Yo this wyclef jean and the refugee all-stars up in
Yo what's this I hear the police in brooklyn?
this jam up, yo, yo
This the type of jam be getting no airplay
I want the whole to hear this joint right here, yo
This the type of jam be getting no airplay
You for it buddy, here it comes

One two, out for the man in blue
Three four, I keep it raw and
Five six, beating us with nightsticks
Seven eight, I'm to pack a thirty-eight
ten, you put me in a pen; if I could
Do it all again, I'd probably your chin
*repeat 2x: first time "ah"; second time "once I the pen"*

I'm from a land of black bats, rats and cats
Scratch up my car, set me up for the
Under pressure, I gotta the gat
Two straps, a total of sixteen
Say positive? no positivity
positivity, more positivity brutality
Thugs get angry, the increase
You want peace, wyclef chief of police
through the hood, it's the same ol story
It's either you play or you drug dealy dealy
Standin on the when the spot get hot
Guaranteed to get set up, by a cop
So I'm sittin back, on instrumentals
Anything I touch, it monumental
Me and jerry wonder, we keep it
For the streets, at the time, we gotta eat
When we it's to enterprise
We to sell a hundred mil before we die
But jerry is broke, that's the
Nine-seven, it's like no eviction
No war milk, no more government cheese
Police keep on at our bulletproof bentley

Yo this the type of jam that be getting no
The bridge about to collapse, apocalypse
This the type of jam be getting no airplay
The are fed up, we got the arms in the air

One two, out for the man in blue
four, I keep it raw and hardcore
Five six, you're beating us nightsticks
eight, I'm forced to pack a thirty-eight
Nine ten, you put me in a pen; if I
Do it all again, I'd probably bust your

Yo bust
Forty caliber, seventeen your character
Waterworld's world, underwater, sub
Derringer, one in the challenger
Seven, four-eight, 23rd on the
My word verses, burst you rap nervous
It's worthless, you get smashed up, on the
Projectile, my forty-four style, blood on
The red ripper, fill up the resevoir
Armageddeon, you smack on, a world crisis
The nicest, for bars, of preciseness

One two, out for the man in blue
Three four, I keep it raw and
Five six, you're me with nightsticks
eight, I'm forced to call canibus
Nine ten, you put me in a pen; if I
Do it all again, I'd probably bust your whole

You got a gat nigga, use it, go pull it
got raw footage of me dodgin bullets
I walk the streets with heat, three
Outnumberin niggaz twin glocks triplets
When I spit shit I lace it, you get punched in with
Puncutations of five-knuckle
I assure you the vocalist standin you
destroy you with temperatures hot enough to flamebroil you
My tongue moves much faster than do
three thousand styles I change my voiceboxes oil
Embarass you in front of crew to annoy you
If you know some chicks that suck a dick, then I'll employ you
To this hip-hop shit, canibus stays
That's why every killuminati I battle for you
I'm you, me versus you, I hurt you
My balance enables me to in a circle
Your head'll spin so fast you'll catch
I practice witchcraft on your bitch ass
your hard drive crash to c colon backslash (c:/)
Go back to the roots and reprogram wack ass, nigga

One two, out for the man in blue
Three four, I it raw and hardcore
Five six, you're sticking us with
eight, I'm forced to pack a thirty-eight
Nine ten, you put me in a pen; if I
Do it all again, I'd probably bust whole chin
brooklyn at? where brooklyn at? (right here, right here)
A-ight? new in the house...

The people gestapo, what what
Yo, there'll be no sequel to revolution
There be no sequel to this revolution
The people versus
be no sequel to this revolution, what what