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, caughin
pissed in the ????, then the plug
2 to the dome, didn't let him
and a chicken, put him in the pot then smother
life in the Rich, think quick
be your money, you can't trust a bitch
fucked in the game, gettin dues
but when they tagged his toe, the boy the news
and like Spice said, bodies to zags
from forties to
just another nigga on the dead
18 and bad luck, nobody gives a
comes a black truck
2 days later everybody
and at the funeral bangers in
here comes his mother pushin the crowd
screamin oh my god don't y child
I'm in the back dressed in
9 in my pocket P is trigga happy
Lil O.G. tapes and c.d.'s
puttin in work like some jeans
and when my number's called, you know I'm bro
cause I got 17 reasons, let you know

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

back on the
P making green, hatas hate to see a nigga go clean
ain't slangin dope, but got tapes
worldwide, started from the Bay
from No to SMG
put it in the trunk, ship it the sea
get the check, King break they neck
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
mark ass niggas get the 86
besides run up and mean mug the P
fools short, Silkk get their teeth
it in the ground, till it turn blue
and if a fool live he be suckin on
stuck em in the car with a jaw
it ain't what you heard, it's 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, you fuckin with a psycho
17 reasons, to let go
shoot em up, bang bang, you fuckin a psycho
17 reasons, to let go
shoot em up, bang bang, you fuckin a psycho

gold on my
4 woofers, 2
and when the Lexus
hoochies wanna lines
on my shit
for a hit
watchin them ????
to get a fix
I walk with a limp, mean like a
Colt 45, gone off that
Master P, the nappy head
don't a fuck, don't play by no rules
rata-tat-tat, just like the
P leaving stuck on their back
better check his pulse, left him with his eyes
struck him from the back, god damn his head open
throw him off the cliff, him to the torcher ship
and was who
I'll be Shawn Kemp
bodies off straight to the morturary
Master P, in the hood, Black Dirty
Richmond Balla, Street hustla
still independent, from the gutter
went big time, 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 pack heat
some fool test me

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