Luyện nghe bài hát 13 Years

19 nigga 7, bitch what's

Thirteen years!
I what to do to knock your stupid ass
so bad you no challenge.
Thirteen years!
This no fluke, this pure deep talent.
Thirteen years!
I know what to do to knock your ass
so bad you no challenge.
Thirteen years!
1]
Bow, when I hold the and hold it
Keepin me until I hoarse and swollen
Thirteen years and
I rate than coldest
Gettin part of this, niggas want no more of this
Never leave you alone in your life, I'm selectin and sellin rhymes
Slap a nigga that style sound some like
Mad you screamin "It AIN'T!"
(This whispered, can't hear)
You be pissin me off some the time, you down one at a time
I'ma be known for fuckin over your whole
Who want my
Keep decling, keep climbing
Keep duckin, keep buckin
Keepin heat seekin rhymes to get you bitches off me
cow sled, (..?..)
Hard to break, if it that way
It me thirteen muthafuckin years just to make a tape
But that mean that my rhymes one of the strongest
All I know I been tryin to make it for the fuckin
the side of all this, long as you done it
When I done it, gettin bout to run this bitch
Takin them riders down with me, with me
Leave thirteen in your muthafuckin and you can count em

2]
Nigga go pass the vibe, dividin mad this
Creative catastrophy, leave MCs in caskets
Hit ya like full metal jackets, cut hatchets
Tight as ratchets, and like matches
than amino acids, flip like gymnastics, nasty as a pissy mattress
Droppin like the temperature in
Clippin em, em, been writin raps far back as I can remember
Fulla them rocks, move key
It was Djs and sucka MCs
your buisness in this industry of competition
Or be at F.W. Bulls dishes
Bitch I was born to write million dollar
Battle in the hallways of back in 85
86, 87, 88, hooked up with Big Boy records and made my first demo
We dropped real shit in the basement
I had big ol' nigga tracks, like pavement
To come New Orleans made it hard to surface
That's I got discouraged and joined the service
Pissed of and I (?) long
I to war and served federal time before I made it back home
No more rips in my and gettin my cream
Ain't unlucky about my number thirteen

3]
I hit the bitch BOSH! Owwwwww!
Never gon could rap and doin time before I bow
How in the fuck you like me now
Told ass she had said I'd be on top of the pile
Cause my rap style is my
I shot niggas up Muslims
With the flex like
Use a, pretty delievery cause most important
I form a style sharp to cut straight through the bones
I came my welts, gave up my belt
I got off Big Boy records to put my single on the shelf, now
Do I do it? right I did it
Shoulda seen the little in the street singin I'm Not That Nigga
Size ain't nigga, I'm short
nigga, raah!
They gave me hundred dollars, shit I quit both of my jobs
Fuck em, got some other shit to do from nine to
My came, and my sister died
But next year, Mystikal signed a half a million dollar with Jive
This thats tragic can't be no more
of my rings I work at A&P no more
I drive my landcruiser off the show
Got the time to to feel pain, sittin on Volvos
Comin scheme, up in my dream
Who'd a ever thought I'd be a No Limit
by the end of that
Thirteen manic years!