Luyện nghe bài hát Slap Them Up

Tellin' it it is, right about now D.J. Premier
Is in the motherfuckin' and shit
Ya know what I'm sayin'? But yo, yo Kris, run shit
Ya know what I'm sayin'? That, shit, my joint
Run motherfucker, it's only right kid

(Do it, do, do, do it)
that bass line, you want lyrics?
We give ya lyrics, it out now, one time
(Do it, do, do, do it)

When we in all de dance 'nuff D.J.'s shut up, woy
Gal, ya come slap them up
When we come in all de dance 'nuff D.J.'s up, woy
Ill will, them up

MC's get ate, get like a pretzel
And get dissed if ever try to step to
They can't take a MC with loose
Talk a lotta but sink no motherfuckin' ships

Lyrics bigger holes than hollow tips
Watch rapper body get stiff
Just in church, we pass the basket
As I preach his casket

it, kick the body right over
And say, "See ya, hmm, to know ya"
Got rapper to see
Yo Kris, bust ass certainly

If you're get off the pot
Let the original rapper the spot
You there and jock, goin'
is absolutely ludicrous, what can you do to Kris

Chattin' foolishness, step along with that stupidness
It's me rippin' this for self, else ya lookin'?
I got more than all the Jamaicans in Brooklyn
So beat it or be seated, Gee I'm mad

Young boy, you can't see me, run and make pee-pee
I was rhymes when 'La-Di-Da-Di' was a demo
Admit you been on my tip for years and can't seem to let go
Go, go call your mother, tell her you wanna battle KRS
I bet the minute you get you'll get your ass whipped

Crazy ill mad styles is I give 'em
Not a run of the mill 'em, I 'em, I got ridiculous rhythm
None of my you can get with 'em
um, will um, your crew come get some so I can kill 'em

Well, I roll by myself but don't let it ya
If I got beef my crew'll damn to ya
We play no games, I'll come straight to your rest
up your shirt and blast you in your chest, well, that was fresh

A fad doesn't fill the bill, but mad will
Don't let me to kill you kid, God forbid still
will lead your need to succeed
But speed, your speech

Your outreach is a breach of what I
For lyrical styles a leech
If I was I'd say, "You lie like a beech"
Wow, wow, wow, wow, wow, wow, wow, wow, wow, wow

Wow, for a amateur you looked hard
But you're really a bitch, when you get it
me, here's my card
Check the list, you lack control, mental behavior
Lyrical talent, and flavor

I got no time for rhyme, you could be hurt
Thinkin' you're hard because you wear a T-Shirt
I'll smash your wanna-be ass in the deep
Black, you'll come up sayin', "How da fuck he do dat?"

'Cause you're like you can't be reached
If your name ain't Arrested Development, save speech
Time to ill, I got mad to fill
Not a fake, I got more than Drake's got Tasty Cakes

Gotta be the best Gee, don't try to me
You'll get jacked son, even if your is not Jesse
be up front when I meet ya
Peace, uh, I'm the teacher

When we come in all de dance 'nuff D.J.'s up, woy
Gal, will ya come slap up
When we in all de dance 'nuff D.J.'s shut up, woy
Gal, ya come slap them up

Do it, do, do, do it
Yo South Bronx, South Bronx
Bronx, South South yo, Uptown
Brooklyn's in the house, tell ya 'bout Staten Island
What about Do it, do, do, do it, do it, do, do, do it