Luyện nghe bài hát Shout Out to Lost Boyz

[dj
Yeah, dj clue, storm, all up in ya area
With the lb fam, peace and nappiness
A sample, but first..
My man canibus, gon' rip down, ha ha

Yo, yo, yo
Lost boyz the beasts from the east up in piece
With a new on the streets every fifty-two weeks
And I dare a to challenge us; I turn the
Love peace and nappiness your blood on a napkin in the ambulance
Fuckin with the nigga called canibus, just the
Of my voice'll give you a urine analysis
I'm a lyrical demon, than crack fiends
smoke two p's with a c in between em
Lb fam, makin the niggaz dance to
And we sip a very substantial of jack daniels
L-o-est, we lock shit
We all of legal drug money profit
love to each and every nigga that copped it
In they jeep, lex coupe, or benz knockin it
Music makin you high, givin you that
To spend of the money you earned on herb
You're with the lb fam, we do what we gotta do
You never get the chance to shoot back at who at you
Nigga, be dead before you reach the hospital
at you layin there with blood comin out your nostrils
Queens most wanted, quick to a nigga
Rap at killers who wear carharts and
Totin the four-pound, the fort down
Before d bounced to uptown became a ghost town
Cheeks, lou and see eye to eye
Spig eye to thigh, bein the shortest
But he still busy on the one and two's regardless
about the clue tape, so I had to get on it
Lost and desert storm, show us the money
Cause we still hungry, we still got the growl in the
We still grimy and grungy, dressin
Doin shows for foreign currencies in other
to finance me a hum-vee with low mufflage
Get a deal, start our own record companies
Sign our own acts, and rhyme whatever we wanna rap
Decorate our walls plaques
eighty-nine or better degree weather
Nine-seven dj and lb fam forever

[dj
! dj clue, all up in ya area

Yo yo yo up I don't think niggaz know man
I'm gonna rock some more, it out, yo, yo
Now just by watchin you, I can that I got you
To face me, somethin you don't do, my rhymes
Are too hostile, they'll beat you down in public the cops do
Sit on top of you, a human pinata out of you
Flow as potent as possible, creatin obstacles feet
High and rising, like the chronicles of
The old school hip-hop, is where I get my style
Uptown harlem, is where I get my lye
My with mad guns, is where I get the nines from
Area 51 is I be gettin rhymes from
I'm not a being
I'm the human ill with a i.q. that's off the scale
If words could kill, a verse of mine'll murder a
And mc'sll be gnashin teeth, burnin in hell
I'm learnin to be the head of the tail
I ain't nobody else to increase my sales
Metaphors are real, like they forged in steel
Stood the judge told him I was forced to kill
And how I went for mines to get in full
Then I went for minds again and em out of niggaz skulls
The nigga on the block with the biggest balls, layin
On the floor, em too a biggie smalls song
"turn your head round," me the cheddar
I'd rather be a lion for a day a lamb who lives forever
"turn head round," give me the cheddar
I'd rather be a lion for a day than a lamb who lives forever