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

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

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

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

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

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

(Ali)
Up next, we got that heartthrob
Fo' Reel, Penelope!!!

(Penelope)
Hot fire, makin' these niggas yearn
be stressin' me dirty, you got shit to learn
How to keep these seven zeroes that's my concern
Put a torch to these hoes, make these bitches
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 it all so give me it
Am I a Luna-chic? Uh huh, I'm a bitch
More deadly than the venom that anacondas spit
The Marilyn Monroe, of the
I'm a sucker for cornrows, niggas in hey
(I got old mama, let me, let me, can I hit that?)
Oh Lord, look nigga (C'mon let me hit that)
Get the fuck on out of my face talkin' all
Old ass bullshit.

(Ali)
Up next, Kujo!!!

(Kujo)
Niggas me cause I'm nice in the game
And got a style priceless ice in the chain
Aiyyo so who am I? I'm the best to spit
I got that, "Hot Shit" I'm Nelly and the Tics
I pop a hot dodge the cops and the dics
Cause they me gone, been in the game too long
Here's how you want it, you come with guns
We two, got work? I comp too
one, we pop two
For the love for my family, and my
Makin' sure them records live on, from now infinity
I'm from the 34, in 3D
Southsiiiiiiide, hot boy I'm Figi
Spit the truth til I die, give a fuck you niggas of me
No matter what the you faggotts 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 high-grade we wastin' it?
What you know bout 76 pounds to break down in the
you know bout chances enough Air Course
Suitcases and pictures out in Lambert Air Port?
What you know bout losin' count cause so many stacks?
How niggas can say shit like this
But there's truth in the
What you know bout clicked up nigga? Out the whilin'
How many you niggas done had pussy from the Virgin
What you bout your broad beggin' to be my mama?
Lunatics and Skunk dick up in Trulany
you know bout mo' bail? We brolic like Brutis
Come for them, everyday and my clique's all
What you know bout Spanish Town? Amongst the gun
Buff penis soup head still on my red snapper.

(Ali)
One love to
Naw you know, up next Mann!!!

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

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

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

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

(Ali)
Iceberg!!!

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

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

(Foundation)
You never met a four, with metaphors
Metal for whores, Tiger's metal four
Shit, what I met her for, strictly city
cliques mixed with Big Lee
Can't disturb, stand clap hands dance and
For the spot where else should fix a hand or word
E-Perior bless, we all wreck mic checks
You guess me on, Midwest be songs, and testin'
F the best be gone, no quest-ion
School parties, fourty-four-four
West and East, don't get it F in streets
Style shows like sandals, get handled
Dismantled, St. is Tony Soprano
No two, heffers with blow poor, ghetto mo'
Blow bolo get around the clock.

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

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

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

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

(Goobee Thug)
We get two seats recline and lean harder
X, smoke green, and buy the spring
Y'all niggas polish your to bling harder
I cock the fifth, drop your shit
Type of rob you to cop the whip
me, on 23's with a boxter-twist
See the rocks twinkle twinkle right in front of your
I shine brighter than the sun in the
Got a gun on my waist, got one in eye
And I stays blowin' haze and that Chocolate
Y'all smoke swag that's brown with seeds in it
I hustle from first to first seasons
And you gotta accept this, I ball the Celtics
A. Walker, you up
And I have Ted Foster to you up.

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

(Fister)
I'm the man before time, move hands before
Like Don I made The Land Before Time
MC's think they're nice, but not hardly
That's what they "Say Say Say" like McArtney
And Jackson, I cypher the action
To anyone who like John Packson
Who these kids think they is tryin' to act all
temporary like members of Destiny's Child
I'm the top Feds, poppin' the hot lead
All in his pothead, him drop dead
me Shanksoon, lyrically snatchin' your soul
Your squad's useless, like the right arm on Bob
Behold, the manifold of a Aristotle
Roadkillin' MC's, with my hand on the
Smashin' em all, mashin' em all, em all
up my Friday check cashin' em all