Luyện nghe bài hát St. Louis Alumni (Bonus Track)

* Jewely, M.K., Penelope, Kujo, Mic Checker, Mann, Suga Chi,
Jacob, Iceberg, Foundation, Storm, West Stone, Goobee Thug & Fister

(Intro: Ali)
Check it out, my is Ali
I roll them Lunatics
You know us, what I'm sayin'
But what you not know
Is we got a lot of MC's in St.
So we do it like this
up we got my man Jewely!!!

(Jewely)
Now what's a finale
If you ain't grams in Cali? El Caminos on toners
Hotel Nico with Mona, weed from
And any ghetto catch St. Louis nigga on the corner
My persona known to rappers in a coma
So faggotts stop the grinnin', them rims reflect
The hate in your as you see em spinnin'
are screamin', "No mo' shoutouts" through nine innin's
I'm drama, like two mommas and one pendin'
This here rapper up your vest, cause the shit I'm packin' Dawg'll
knock your out your chest
Rappers suffer cardiac arrest
If I'm I dump a few
You niggas are actin' like, I won't send em to the
This is Zor, a hard act to follow
Murderous nigga, known as desperado.

(Ali)
Up next, Hillsdale
My M.K.!!!

(M.K.)
You knew time it was soon as you stepped in the door
Bitches and pointin', and whisperin', "There he go!"
Where he go? Me I be between the ice
Sippin' Don P with a piece right!
in my ear about menage a trois
Us and her partners, El panties and bras
Freaky baby I'm lovin' that
Dig the way you think, them your partners?
Get a drink, shit one bitch was strippin'
Cause she didn't get picked, but
We roll with time, it's only rippin' the six,
Minutes nigga rollin' four deep
Them bitches in the back
I'm gettin' some head up in the
She like, "I got this" you the cockpit
While her partners in the back tradin' cock spit.

(Ali)
Up next, we got hazel-eyed heartthrob
Fo' Reel, Penelope!!!

(Penelope)
Hot like fire, makin' niggas yearn
Don't be stressin' me dirty, you got shit to
How to keep these seven zeroes that's my only
Put a torch to hoes, make these bitches burn
Stern, as I handle my grit, talk mo'
Spit, and let my fo-fo rip, so bitch slip
make me put a lump on your lip
A dip in your hip, I'm your shit
I want it all so me it
Am I a Uh huh, I'm a looney bitch
More deadly than the venom some anacondas spit
The Marilyn Monroe, of the
I'm a for cornrows, niggas in Timbos hey
(I got old mama, let me, let me, can I hit that?)
Oh Lord, look (C'mon mama let me hit that)
Get the fuck on out of my talkin' all that
Old ass bullshit.

(Ali)
Up next, Kujo!!!

(Kujo)
Niggas me cause I'm nice in the game
And got a priceless like ice in the chain
so who am I? I'm the best to ever spit
I got that, "Hot Shit" I'm Nelly and the Tics
I pop a hot block dodge the cops and the
Cause they me gone, been in the game too long
how you want it, you come with guns nigga
We cock two, got I comp too
one, we pop two
For the for my family, and my seed
sure them records live on, from now until infinity
I'm the 34, live in 3D
Southsiiiiiiide, hot boy I'm Figi
the truth til I die, give a fuck you niggas sick of me
No matter what the fuck you do
You get rid of me.

(Ali)
Peace, to my Trife, up next
The one and Mic Checker!!!

(Mic Checker)
St. Louis, what you know bout high-grade we it?
What you know bout 76 pounds to down in the basement?
What you know bout chances enough Air
and pretty pictures out in Lambert Air Port?
What you know bout count cause there's so many stacks?
How many niggas can say shit this
But truth in the tracks?
What you bout clicked up nigga? Out the country whilin'
How many you niggas done had pussy from the Islands?
What you bout your broad beggin' to be my mama?
and Skunk dick player up in Trulany
What you know bout mo' bail? We brolic Brutis
for them, everyday and my clique's all exclusive
What you bout Spanish Town? Amongst the gun clappers
Buff penis soup head still on my red snapper.

(Ali)
One to PL-Spin
Naw you know, up next Mann!!!

(Boogee Mann)
Mr. B-double-O-G what? M-A-double-N
I smoke joke and grin, and fuck best friend
Only if she a ten, then I slide in
Boogee and DJ Spin, be and lightenin'
Damn frightenin, so tuck your vest in
My Mack-10, spit flows that kill men
It's the Midwest y'all, we aimin' at all
We the til we fall or it's nothin' at all
So just warm up the water, cause we Blink like
Half-baked half slaughter, comin' like Carter
How you want it or cut? We in the back of the truck
Tryin' to see if baby girl can make me this nut
Cause I'm 24 above the gun creek
Get these hoes deep, so you yo heat.

(Ali)
up Spud? Up next representin' V.I.P.
King Jacob and Chi!!!

(Suga Chi)
Microphones I burn bitches to it may concern with this
Gotta learn is to all my foes
Them mommas swervin' Neons and Geos
Cause they nigros to peep my
In a ??? ready for war, and booted
Undisputed dame, been the same, in the
Since my Tenants had fat laces, smack
With (Ouch) intoxicated feel it bitch
You gettin' out of clubs ever time you see me.

(King Jacob)
Uugh, everybody to be street
Guaranteed they the most heat
And to God ain't nothin' sweet
I agree, but I also feel I ain't got to shit
To do it to them punk ass niggas your click
I fuck hoes that be so thick, when I roll you know
And them twenty inch chrome rims sit so
Motorola for communication, this is to aid my flows
over the whole nation.

(Ali)
Iceberg!!!

(Iceberg)
It's the nigga the that keeps it duplicated
Or faded in no type of way, hate it if you
But you can't stop us paid
Unless you sabotage the stage, or drop us in a we stand
And you have to worry bout your whole state
We made it now the forever more
Style be forever raw, or hell
stay forever S-T-L
Catch me down down baby, in a black
Comin' to get my fuckin' corner for Nelly, (E.I.!)
My fuckin' record sales barely, (Uh Ohhhhhhhhh!)
Now there's nothin' they can me
What I do is too late, for the Louie
See how you fools respond to these frees
Bigger Big Lee released all beats
And everytime we do fuckin' million ???
And come to answer question of how come I-C-E-B-G
Gon become part of this Alumni

(Ali)
All the way the Cle-Town we got my man E
(Louie Town) Foundation!!!

(Foundation)
You never met a four, better metaphors
Metal for whores, like Tiger's metal
Shit, that's what I met her for, strictly
Thick cliques mixed Big Lee
Can't disturb, stand clap hands and swerve
For the spot nobody else should fix a hand or word
E-Perior bless, since we all mic checks
You guess me on, Midwest be songs, and Jones
F with the best be gone, no
School parties, fourty-four-four
Seventy and East, don't get it F in streets
shows like sandals, pumps get handled
Dismantled, St. Louis is Tony
No two, heffers blow poor, ghetto mo' gurr
Blow get fooled around the clock.

(Ali)
Up next, we got two MC's
My man Storm and his West Stone.

(Storm)
You can't fuck Storm, six niggas in the truck with Storm
You want to jack him, but you won't got no luck Storm
My dirty run with dirty and he from St. Lou
Plus he Kung-Fu, and he got guns too
That big dick dude, that flip kick fools Tom Cruise
You wanna battle me dude you gon' lose
Hit you with one-two's, your bruised
My in the butter so many crews call me doo-doo shoes.

(West Stone)
You know Stone is known to them bones
your chick and take her home
Get one chick and her moan
And you wonder why niggas hate the Stone
Broke their backs, when I wrote the
don't drink I'll smoke to that
Niggas that, I'll take a bow
to take my life? Better take it now
I'm still let me break it down
this shit to the O.K. Corral
Get to blastin', asses
that talk shit, I'm with the action
Want to make it hot? I'ma the heat
Ain't no nigga can hang with me.

(Ali)
Up next we got Thug
The spitter!!!

(Goobee Thug)
We gon' get two seats and lean harder
X, green, and buy the spring water
Y'all polish your jewels to bling harder
I cock the fifth, y'all drop shit
Type of nigga rob you to cop the
Catch me, on 23's a boxter-twist
See the rocks twinkle twinkle in front of your eyes
I shine than the sun in the skies
Got a gun on my waist, got one in eye
And I stays blowin' haze and that Thai
Y'all smoke swag weed that's with seeds in it
I hustle from first to through seasons
And you gotta accept this, I like the Celtics
A. Walker, you up
And I Ted Foster to make you up.

(Ali)
Up next the Rawkus Crew
My Fister!!!

(Fister)
I'm the man before time, move hands time
Like Don Bluth I made The Before Time
Some MC's think nice, but not hardly
That's what "Say Say Say" like Paul McArtney
And Jackson, I cypher the action
To anyone who assists like Packson
Who these kids they is tryin' to act all wild
They temporary like of Destiny's Child
I'm spottin' the top Feds, poppin' the hot
All in his pothead, makin' him drop
Call me Shanksoon, lyrically your soul
Your squad's useless, like the right arm on Bob
Behold, the manifold of a black
Roadkillin' MC's, my hand on the throttle
Smashin' em all, mashin' em all, em all
Picked up my Friday cashin' em all