Luyện nghe bài hát Reason For Rhyme

Verse 1, MJG,

I'm MJG, the nigga with the versatile
Check your calendar realize that I been here for
When I was I took the soul up out of rhythm and blues
When hip hop originated slowly my dues
And my shoes, and try to walk a mile in my past
Without them salt sheisters tryin to get in that ass
It's been too long, you fittin to feel the south
Shut mouth, shut your do you little freak ass hoe
I'm bout tired of all this damn east and west shit
Especially when other niggaz tryin to work in bitch
I paid my dues to the fullest, worked to god hard
For you too kill the and leave me out of a job
You niggaz strain yourself, to yourself
And now you playin with enough to actually hang yourself
But you care, hell, you constantly fallin deep in the plot
Mesmerized from all the bitches and the you got
You must of they said that rap would never last ten years
And if your selfish to the fact, I'm tryin to a career
Now listen here, what do we have, we got cause
To the pen on the paper and the glock in your drawers, nigga

Remember back when we used to do this for fun
Bein the dopest on my block made me number one
No gun, just a pen and paper by the sheet
In the crib, funky off the next nigga beat
No electronics to make the shit that I the chronic
Shit enough to bring vomit from your stomach
as a comet, shield your eyes from the UV
Groovey, a nigga from a Batman movie
Real about the that I express over dope beats
You say it was fake unless you grew up on my street
Concrete head niggaz, runnin FED niggaz,
Po' ass scared niggaz, that came out dead
And all I ever wanted to be was an
Did a little and found it wasn't for me
Poetry flowin my bloodstream like a drug
I'm to rhyme because I love the buzz, nigga

Chorus, 2X:

My reason for
I'm true to this rap
My for rhyme
Because I'm real with rap
My for rhyme
It all about the cheese
Even though fat lp's can a nigga g's

2, MJG:

My for rhymin, while I'm in, a position to be tellin
not about the fame and them bitches who be yellin
At my concerts, one verse, up, quick fuck
Lies spreadin now you tangled in a mix up
I gits up, do sits up, and squeeze my mindrame back in order
And use my hand as a tape
Jottin down all the information in front of me
The time, the bad time, the way I think it oughta be
Now follow G, can you
If you can then drink a of Hen
Hit this hand on your end
Friends don't be friends and foes be foes
However the way you bring it, that's how you it, I suppose
I can stay up out the keep my aim on my paper
And I'll be sure to my pimpin real with Tony Draper
And I'll the man that I'm known to be
Dim the (Hip-tie) for the MJG

Chorus, 2X

Verse 3,

Give me a of wild niggaz who love real hip hop
And smoke get soaked up, like water in a mop
Drop among me and my own folk
And let that bullshit walk among the past with
Ain't no hope of bein seriously
When avenues are given to me
So, I take shit and make shit mine
only for position in this thing called rhyme
Freestyle, not great, but if you for a second
I could write some shit down could get a gold record
Thought about not the first thing that I about
MJG and Eightball and is how we comin out
out, niggaz who can't hold on like En Vogue
Even though I out the mound I'm still ten toed
Down for the shit I do, the Suave House
True to this shit, because this shit is so

Chorus, 2X

End shoutouts