Luyện nghe bài hát You Can't Slip

Verse 1: Sir
You can't slip, the pimpin' game is not about the sex
You gots to be a businessman to keep them in check
I to run some call girls and pimp 'em just for fun
But you should see how the gangsters can make us r-r-run!
Back in '82 I used to a gold Caddy
Females my business, you could call me the Mack Daddy
But came so easy to me, I didn't have to hit 'em
Roll 'em up to so Johnny's could wit 'em
them fake ID's so we could step across the border
We hit the nearest hotel, and like that, I'm takin'
Two thousand dollars and she'll make you your morals
We must increase the profit if the trick wants to get
Rappers like to claim 'bout how they know the game
How can you run the ladies you're only 17?
I speak from experience I say "Turn around!"
'Cause I was rollin' heavy 'till one took me down
She was 17 but she was lookin' 21
5'9", street-tough and guns
But I was slippin' 'cause the pimpin' game was
Baby took a trick out to the suite so he toss
911 is crazy on my pager
I the trunk button and I load the 12 gauge
Back to the 'tel 'cause I'm to get my mail
Smoke a quick if he's beatin' on my female
Kickin' the door and ain't nobody in the suite
I never let my agents take them tricks out on the
If I wasn't slippin' then the psycho kill her
Body found face down, floatin' in the green

You can't slip! Not in pimpin' game, chief!
No no, you slip!
You slip.
Yo E-Dog, tell them what's up that slangin' and bangin', chief!

Verse 2: (Mix-a-Lot)
You can't when you're rollin' through the hood without your strap (Hell
no!)
Especially when your rims are dipped in gold and phat (Yeah!)
'Cause the 1990's and you got to be prepared
Or a like the E'll roll 'em up and keep 'em scared (Huhh??)
High sightin' nigga danks through my set (Don't do it!)
6-4, gives my homies no respect (None!)
But when we starts the loc'in' up, the fool will the chokin' up
And bones are broken up, a jack move! (Give it up!)
A straight jack on a fella with a fat
Comin' out missin' when you're slippin' on the track (Yeah!)
Came through servin' but you went out served (Peace!)
Got you for Daytons then we beat you to the curb (Huh!)
Now it's time to slang them thangs and up on a grip (Yeah!)
Trade him for some ounces so that I can clock my (Get paid!)
Say it's 'bout the dividends and not the fame (Yep!)
But I let you know, the E-D-O-G is my name (Word.)
So now I'm addicted to the jackin' and the slangin'
Cross saggin' and my flag shows I'm bangin'
But if you think I'm gonna stop life, well you're wrong!
I don't care about your muscles 'cause my 9 is pluggin' (Ha ha!)
So here we go again, jack in effect (Yeah!)
A candy-painted Blazer chased the driver, make him (Get him!)
And if he tries to run I just smoke him on the spot
But little do I know, there's a lesson to be
The pulled an AK and now I'm yellin' "Mayday!"
("OH SHIT, HE GOT E-DOG!") On the concrete I lay!
He walks up slowly, he looks me in my eye
to my temple, so I know I'm gonna die!
(Lil' cake-ass gang nigga, you can't for these D's! See ya!)
*gun cocking, shot* (C'mon, go, nigga!) *sirens*
(Shouldn't have been a sucka, nigga!) *door
(Punk motherfucker!! Yeah!) *car skids

You slip.
You slip. Oh, you better pull them pants up, champ. Huh huh.
You can't slip. Gots to be a gangsta,
Well, you slip!
organ music*
Yeah, a lot of brothers is constantly tellin' me how they growin'.
Well, I'm just to tell you where you're goin'.
You slip. Peace.