Luyện nghe bài hát 17 Reasons

car full of
see him creep up
hit him in the jaw
took him for his and his beeper
left him on the ground, blood
in the ????, then pulled the plug
2 to the dome, let him suffer
and like a chicken, put him in the pot smother
life in the Rich, think quick
be about your money, you can't a bitch
fucked in the game, gettin 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 dead
18 and bad luck, nobody gives a
comes a black truck
2 later everybody cryin
and at the funeral in line
comes his mother pushin through the crowd
screamin oh my god killm 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 some Levi jeans
and when my number's called, you I'm ready bro
I got 17 reasons, I'll let you know

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

back on the
P making green, playa hatas to see a nigga go clean
ain't slangin dope, but got tapes
went worldwide, from the Bay
from No to SMG
put it in the trunk, ship it the sea
Saint get the check, King break they
it's all legit, like Flex
one blow and I'll drop ya, you might a doctor
a nigga getaway, got the Shocker
stuck to your ass, played you a bitch
ass niggas get the motherfuck 86
besides run up and mean mug the P
fools short, Silkk get their teeth
stick it in the ground, it turn blue
and if a fool live he be suckin on
stuck em in the car a broken jaw
it ain't you heard, it's what you saw
retaliation's a must, that's why I
but fool, got 17
you motherfuckin ass up

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 with a

gold on my
4 woofers, 2
and the Lexus stop
hoochies wanna lines
fiends on my
for a hit
watchin them niggas
to get a fix
I walk with a limp, mean a soldier
Colt 45, gone off that
Master P, the head fool
don't a fuck, don't play by no rules
rata-tat-tat, like the Brat
P suckas stuck on their back
better check his pulse, left him his eyes open
struck him from the back, god damn watch his open
throw him off the cliff, take him to the torcher
and was who
I'll be like Kemp
dumpin bodies off to the morturary
Master P, in the hood, Dirty Harry
Richmond Balla, 23rd hustla
still independent, from the gutter
big time, took to the gangsta rhyme
put the on the map, that's the fucking like of crime
the gettin hectic,
the P respected
but got to some heat
incase some fool me

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