Luyện nghe bài hát 1 - 800 - Spice

[ ant ]
( )
Aw
One of them answer machines again

( tone* )

[ verse 1: 1 ]
Mi-ni-mi up da phone to hear da ring-a-ding-ling-a
Mi hope ya not a cop, cause mi be dem things-a
Da niggas up on mi block, dey got much love for da
Jah man, just put your hands up if you slingin da
Mi got to get mi propers, if it snow, shine or
Mi pockets got di cause mi so sick in da game-a
Gafflin muthafuckas, sellin em on da streets-a
Ya your money back, ya got to meet millimeter
Mi maxin up on the block with dis nigga the fac-a
Mi gots mi phone, in the bushes was mi gat-a
Ya can't fuck mi posse cause mi posse be strapped
Ya want ganja, xtra large'll you a fat 20 sack-a
The 187, the is back up in the house-a
So roll up da and put it up in your mouth-a

man

[ ant ]

Yeah, you with all that gangsta shit, partner, right?
But I heard you the nigga you claim to be, right?
You one of them studio gangsta
So what's up that, nigga?

[ 2: spice 1 ]
Giggagiggada-gangsta,
S-p-i-c-e is a real one, and not a
Mi like to bust-bang, em up, mi glocks hang
out da window of mi drop-top mustang
Aim for da while ant banks hold di clip
Mi buckin em down, mi buckin em cause for mi kilo mi killa
Roll up a 20 sack, call mi da mack
Look da street and you see me, nigga, slingin crack
The set up shop on mi block
So call 187 line and your rock-a

man

[ ]
Ah
- ah
Liquor willie - ah
I -
I some for 10 dollars
Can you do for me for 10?

[ 1 ]
Mi nigga ant banks, down with di funky breakdown
( *inhaling, )
man
This ganja you fucked up, man

Mi need up another 20 sack
man

[ 3: spice 1 ]
Mi kickin da rasta shit, but mi not ranks-a
Mi spice 1, di muthafuckin
Mi da dank and it just might make mi kill ya
If you comin at me about sinsemilia
Mi nigga g-nut put endonesia
Mi call it gaja, give me fire-a
Can't lit di ashes, hits me in mi
mi lead bust got to get mi headrush
Even though endonesia me nervous
Mi got mi and mi coolin up on di block
Play mi for a fool, mi take his chest with mi
Let dem know not to be rushin mi knot
So 1-800 line and order your rock
man

[ ]
Uh
Uh - eh
Suck-your-dick sally from the liquor store the block
Uh - I ain't got no money, but I'll suck your for a 10 piece

[ verse 4: 1 ]
mi lay mi start, let mi say peace to mi nine
Cause in mi neighborhood young niggas do di
It's a thang to the east bay gangsta
The city streets make a nigga want to ya
Break yourself, now you fucked in the
The killin dance is a goddamn
Money or murder, 187 proof-a
So ant banks, bust da gin and da
Mi signed jive, now mi jive-ass nigga
down di doja, roll it up a little bigger
Mi watch da bitches cause da a-gold digger
So d the poet, won't you mi the liquor
The set up shop on mi block
So call 1-800 and your rocks

man

[ ant ]
Ah no,
I want no rocks and shit, man
I'm callin cause I heard you was a fake-ass gangster
never had a gun
Ain't been to jail
Ain't never a muthafucka
And I'm tired of this fake-ass shit you kickin all over this tape
I'm tired of it, man, I'm of it
I ain't it
Fuck shit
You fake,
Fuck
that
I'm out, man