Luyện nghe bài hát 10 Bricks

[Intro:
Yo, yo, Chef (gracias)
I need some of that, (slide the back)
I need to come back to the, (I heard juice)
Back of the store here (just be easy and tell ya man to be cool)
We got some culinary cats right here, we need you (we'll him if he
fault)

Ayo, rappers stepping to me, want a brick, son
But I'm the Chef, my is 26, son
Move up, about 32 of those and locker dough
Soldier got locked up, blow the doctor
police is X fives, watching my lofts
So leeches I just left it and walked
My flow wicked, money, moving and ridicly
Geico on the arm froze, rose gold me
Take baths white women, lingerie see-through
Taking trips to Iran, my Spanish people
Selling drugs to Flatbush, my nigga Cecil
Snub with the black gloves, on half-moon do
Killed him in the Bahamas, his ran, white van pulled up
They caught him out in Brooklyn a white man
Slutted out, rosed out, sister was gone, she
She threw the in her mouth and said 'good evening'
Yup, Wall grill line, be getting money, crime thief
I know her from Africa, pretty smile, teeth
Gold joints, frames only, Louis Vuitton,
with the matching sweater on, you owe me

[Chorus:
Knock the ash off the blunt, confront niggas who
Swing an ax, tax rhyme different from cats
Specialize in mic rippers,
We the last skippers, big rocks and the block will

Beefsteak niggas eat and they get fat
Chase up and down the block and kill rats
with the gats, even feds don't know where the shells at
The shell trapped up in nice crib four packs
Four macs, caught a nice cell for stacks
Yeah, me and my nigga
Gotta but we'll be right back, real soon
Chef cook it up, we got a date with goons
Telling you Ghost, my crazy with the wreck
Pythons used to to her sister named Yvette
I it up, me and the Linx, was getting weeded up
I beat it up, I hit that, but I ain't seed it up
Meanwhile, back on the block, we two trucks
Then the windows down, we see these two fucks
Soon as they jumped out, see these bust

[Ghostface
Yo, I lit a booger up, is gone, so we bagging up all shape
Binoculars, scanners, we all listen to
Ran out of baggies, my is dry
Got them dirty joints all scattered, act surprised
Nah, nigga the currency rushes popping a wheelie
Holding a pipe one hand, the other down in the Bentleys
You know how it be with the Clarks
Throwing darts at a
Getting slow necked all up in The
That's all me, thirty four shines, four lines
I just like Aaron Hall, writing raw rhymes
Like, threw Kool-Aid rubies in a bezel
When I was 12 in the church, I started packing metal
A deuce deuce, my supplier was Loose
Ever I had the drop, my instinct was to shoot-shoot
This ain't For the Love of Ray J, for the love of the AK
Cuz you can get like AJ
Cuban Link Dynasty has emerged, rap shit stop
I have a of niggas moving my furs