Luyện nghe bài hát You Can't Slip

Verse 1: Sir
You can't slip, 'cause the pimpin' game is not the sex
You to be a businessman to keep them thangs in check
I used to run some call and pimp 'em just for fun
But you should see how the gangsters can us pimps r-r-run!
Back in '82 I to roll a gold Caddy
Females were my business, you could call me the Mack
But pimpin' came so easy to me, I have to hit 'em
Roll 'em up to so Johnny's could wit 'em
Show them fake ID's so we could step the border
We hit the hotel, and like that, I'm takin' orders
Two thousand and she'll make you lose your morals
We must increase the profit if the trick to get oral
Rappers like to 'bout how they know the pimpin' game
How can you run the ladies you're only 17?
I speak from experience I say "Turn around!"
I was rollin' heavy 'till one female took me down
She was 17 but she was lookin' 21
5'9", and packin' guns
But I was slippin' 'cause the pimpin' game was
Baby took a trick out to the suite so he toss
911 is flashin' crazy on my
I pushed the button and I load the 12 gauge
Back to the 'tel 'cause I'm to get my mail
Smoke a trick quick if he's on my female
Kickin' down the door and ain't in the suite
I never let my agents take them tricks out on the
If I wasn't slippin' then the couldn't kill her
Body found down, floatin' in the green river

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

Verse 2: (Mix-a-Lot)
You can't slip when you're rollin' through the hood your strap (Hell
no!)
Especially when your rims are dipped in gold and phat (Yeah!)
it's the 1990's and you got to be prepared
Or a nigga like the E'll 'em up and keep 'em scared (Huhh??)
High nigga rollin danks through my set (Don't do it!)
Drops 6-4, gives my homies no (None!)
But we starts the loc'in' up, the fool will start the chokin' up
And are gettin' 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 fast (Yeah!)
through servin' but you went out gettin' served (Peace!)
Got you for your Daytons then we you to the curb (Huh!)
Now it's to slang them thangs and come up on a grip (Yeah!)
Trade him for some ounces so I can clock my chips (Get paid!)
Say it's 'bout the and not about the fame (Yep!)
But 'till I let you know, the is my name (Word.)
So now I'm straight addicted to the jackin' and the
Cross court saggin' and my flag I'm bangin'
But if you think I'm gonna this life, well you're wrong!
I don't care about muscles 'cause my 9 is pluggin' domes (Ha ha!)
So here we go again, jack in effect (Yeah!)
A candy-painted Blazer chased the driver, him wreck (Get him!)
And if he to run then I just smoke him on the spot
But do I know, there's a lesson to be taught
The pulled an AK and now I'm yellin' "Mayday!"
*gunshots* ("OH SHIT, HE GOT E-DOG!") On the I lay!
He walks up slowly, then he me in my eye
Barrel to my temple, so I 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 been a sucka, nigga!) *door closing*
(Punk motherfucker!! Yeah!) skids off*

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