Luyện nghe bài hát 13 Years

19 nigga 7, what's happenin?

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

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

3]
I hit the like BOSH! Owwwwww!
Never gon bounce could rap and time before I bow
How in the fuck you like me now
Told your ass she had I'd be on top of the pile
Cause my rap is my hustle
I shot niggas up like
With the flex like
Use a, pretty delievery cause most important
I form a style sharp enough to cut straight 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? Fuckin I did it
Shoulda seen the little chir'en in the street singin I'm Not That
Size ain't nothin nigga, I'm
nigga, raah!
They gave me five hundred dollars, I quit both of my jobs
Fuck em, got some shit to do from nine to five
My birthday came, and my died
But next year, Mystikal signed a half a million deal with Jive
shit thats tragic can't be no more
Because of my rings I at A&P no more
I drive my off the show floor
Got the to time to feel pain, sittin on Volvos
Comin with scheme, up in my
a ever thought I'd be a No Limit soldier
by the end of thirteen
Thirteen manic years!