Luyện nghe bài hát 17 Reasons

car of weed
didn't see him up
hit him in the jaw
took him for his phone and his
left him on the ground, caughin
pissed in the ????, pulled the plug
2 to the dome, didn't let him
and a chicken, put him in the pot then smother
in the Rich, gotta think quick
be about money, you can't trust a bitch
fucked in the game, paid dues
but when they tagged his toe, the boy the news
and Spice said, from bodies to zags
forties to funeral
just another nigga on the grass
18 and bad luck, nobody a fuck
here comes a black
2 days later everybody
and at the funeral bangers in
here comes his mother pushin through the
screamin oh my god don't y child
I'm in the back dressed in
9 in my pocket caue P is trigga
Lil O.G. tapes and c.d.'s
puttin in work like some jeans
and my number's called, you know I'm ready bro
I got 17 reasons, I'll let you know

17 reasons, to let go
shoot em up, bang bang, you with a psycho
17 reasons, to let go
shoot em up, bang bang, you fuckin with a
17 reasons, to let go
shoot em up, bang bang, you fuckin a psycho

back on the
P making green, playa hate to see a nigga go clean
ain't slangin dope, but got dope
worldwide, started from the Bay
from No to SMG
put it in the trunk, it across the sea
get the check, King break they neck
it's all legit, Solar Flex
one and I'll drop ya, you might need a doctor
a nigga getaway, C-Murder got the
stuck to your ass, played you a bitch
mark ass niggas get the 86
wanna run up and mean mug the P
fools short, Silkk get their teeth
stick it in the ground, till it turn
and if a fool live he be on soup
stuck em in the car a broken jaw
it ain't what you heard, it's you saw
retaliation's a must, why I bust
but fool, got 17
you motherfuckin ass up

17 reasons, to let go
shoot em up, bang bang, you fuckin with a
17 reasons, to let go
shoot em up, bang bang, you fuckin with a
17 reasons, to let go
shoot em up, bang bang, you with a psycho

on my ride
4 woofers, 2
and when the stop
hoochies form lines
on my shit
for a hit
watchin them ????
to get a fix
I walk with a limp, mean a soldier
Colt 45, gone off donja
Master P, the nappy fool
don't give a fuck, play by no rules
rata-tat-tat, just like the
P leaving suckas stuck on their
better check his pulse, left him with his open
struck him the back, god damn watch his head open
throw him off the cliff, take him to the torcher
and was who
be like Shawn Kemp
dumpin bodies off straight to the
Master P, in the hood, Dirty Harry
Richmond Balla, 23rd hustla
still independent, started from the
went big time, to the gangsta rhyme
put the town on the map, that's the like of crime
the hoods hectic,
the P well
but got to pack heat
incase some fool me

17 reasons, to let go
shoot em up, bang, you fuckin with a pyscho