Luyện nghe bài hát 1 - 800 - Spice

[ ant ]
( )
Aw
One of them fake-ass answer machines

( tone* )

[ verse 1: 1 ]
Mi-ni-mi pickin up da phone to hear da
Mi hope ya not a cop, mi be slingin 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, or rain-a
Mi pockets got di bumps cause mi so sick in da
Gafflin muthafuckas, sellin em rocks on da
Ya want your 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 with mi posse mi posse be strapped
Ya want your ganja, large'll you a fat 20 sack-a
The 187, the faculty is back up in the
So roll up da canibus and put it up in mouth-a

man

[ ant ]

Yeah, you tight with all that shit, partner, right?
But I heard you ain't the nigga you to be, right?
You one of them gangsta muthafuckas
So what's up with that,

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

man

[ ]
Ah
- ah
Liquor store - ah
I -
I want for 10 dollars
Can you do for me for 10?

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

Mi need lick up another 20
man

[ 3: spice 1 ]
Mi kickin da shit, but mi not shabba ranks-a
Mi spice 1, di gangsta
Mi smokin da dank and it might make mi kill ya
If you comin at me talkin sinsemilia
Mi g-nut put together endonesia
Mi call it gaja, me some fire-a
Can't lit di ashes, me in mi eye-a
Before mi lead got to get mi headrush
Even though make me nervous
Mi got mi nine and mi coolin up on di
mi for a fool, mi take his chest with mi glock
Let dem know not to be rushin mi knot
So call 1-800 line and order your
man

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

[ verse 4: 1 ]
Before mi lay mi start, let mi say to mi nine
Cause in mi neighborhood young niggas do di
It's a ghetto thang to the bay gangsta
The city streets make a want to shank ya
yourself, now you fucked in the game
The dance is a goddamn shame
Money or murder, it's 187
So ant banks, da gin and da juice-a
Mi signed with jive, now mi nigga
down di doja, roll it up a little bigger
Mi da bitches cause da bitches a-gold digger
So d the poet, you pass mi the liquor
The dopeman set up on mi block
So call and order your rocks

man

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