Luyện nghe bài hát 10 Bricks

[Intro:
Yo, yo, Chef (gracias)
I some of that, (slide through the back)
I need ya'll to come to the, (I heard juice)
Back of the store over here (just be 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 to me, they want a brick, son
But I'm the Chef, my is 26, son
Move up, 32 of those and open locker dough
Soldier got locked up, killed the doctor
Flamboyant police is X fives, my lofts
So many leeches I left it and walked
My flow wicked, Miami money, moving and
Geico on the arm froze, rose with me
Take baths white women, lingerie see-through
Taking trips to Iran, my Spanish nigga
Selling to Flatbush, call my nigga Cecil
with the black gloves, on half-moon Greek do
Killed him in the Bahamas, his wife ran, white van up
They caught him out in with a white man
Slutted out, rosed out, was gone, she geeking
She the rifle in her mouth and said 'good evening'
Yup, Paul Wall line, be getting money, crime thief
I her from Africa, pretty smile, nine teeth
Gold joints, frames only, Vuitton, Pony
Leather with the sweater on, you owe me

Raekwon]
Knock the ash off the blunt, confront niggas who
Swing an ax, tax niggas rhyme different from
in mic rippers, splashes
We the last skippers, big and the block will stick

Beefsteak Charlie niggas eat and get fat
Chase heads up and the block and kill rats
Skilled with the gats, even feds don't where the shells at
The shell trapped up in nice crib with four
Four macs, caught a nice cell for four
Yeah, me and my nigga
escape but we'll be right back, real soon
Chef cook it up, we got a with real goons
Telling you Ghost, my connect with the wreck
Pythons used to talk to her sister Yvette
I speed it up, me and the Linx, was weeded up
I beat it up, yeah I hit that, but I ain't 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, rocks is gone, so we bagging up all
Binoculars, scanners, we all to jake
Ran out of baggies, my is dry
Got them joints all scattered, don't act surprised
Nah, the currency rushes like popping a wheelie
Holding a pipe with one hand, the other in the Bentleys
You how it be with the peppermint Clarks
Throwing darts at a
Getting necked all up in The Bronx
all me, thirty four shines, forty four lines
I just chill Aaron Hall, writing raw rhymes
Like, Kool-Aid rubies in a lemonade bezel
When I was 12 in the church, I started that metal
A deuce deuce, my supplier was Bruce
since I had the drop, my instinct was to shoot-shoot
This ain't For the of Ray J, it's for the love of the AK
Cuz you can get scratched AJ
Cuban Link has emerged, this rap shit stop
I have a team of niggas my furs