Luyện nghe bài hát 360 Degrees

Weeblelations, testin', testin', testin',
Hey, turn my mic up, a bitch, I got my dudes up in this mutha fucka
boy 8ball, 4-Tay, Speeze-weeze, Spice-weeze, ya smell me?
It's E-feeze, mutha fuckaz ain't understandin' the of this
I cuss a fucka out

gon' be feelin' what I'm revealin'
Tryin' to do healin' an' at the same time make a million
Vibrate love an' happiness in ghetto maze
Hate us playaz, got this ryhme stayin' in a

Kill wit a pill, broke like Nintendo
Three hours an' fourty-four minutes straight to
Bumpin' the rappin', baby
Me an' 40 in the big body Mercedes

Four hundred, five V-12 black Coupe
None of my wake that Barkley comin' out the roof
Choppin' game on the strength
Man, we goes juss like them splinters an' 'em temps, uh

Met this that was in Houston, said she was from Houston though
Said her profession just was stackin' paper roll
at times it seems, gold credit cards, we kiss that ass
Went from Bennies to Bossalini's, collectin'

They whistlin', I'm glistin' like Sammy
Born an' in the Bay, them hataz can't fade us
I am the rapper that call 4-Tay
360 degrees, they can't fade the Yay,

Fuckin' off in the Bay wit some crazy
drunk, gettin' high, so they saved ya nigga
From the bottom of the to the top of the mountain
In the 'O' clownin', talkin' 'bout what's goin' down

An' niggaz feelin' me, soakin' up the love I give
Nigga, all of us got kids, an' only got one life to
But sometimes that shit don't
Animosity can we to ratta-tatta, splatta

All over shit leavin' motionless
Drinkin' blood like I been fire like kiss
The only sick as this behind me
Is the gangsta, S P I C E
(Yeah, me, yo)

Five albums in the game, 500 Benzo in my
Five in a bucket, five zig-zags to the brain
To the greedy paper, I'm on the MTV news
I'm havin' slugs fo shistey niggaz, ta give me the blues

I ain't a mutha fuckin' Italian but my crew run the Mafia
8ball, 4-Tay, an' 40 Water
An' me Bossalini, Freddy Chico, Chanelle
Met a couple of incidents where niggaz tried to kill me

Just a part of the game, niggaz out fo' fame
When steady bustin' at me is to no name
But when runnin' up on this muthafuckin' Don
They catchin' pieces of hell, hot slugs from a
fresh out on bail

Long time comin', baby, somewhere off in the
Me an' 40 Waters choppin' it up, or kill
On the real about this lifestyle
Intoxicated an' always heavily

Bank's the beat, I grab the mic an' bust
Turn into a monster, weak MC's up
Smokin' trees up, pinnin' knees up
Feds wouldn't ease up, had to put the up

Findin' Jesus fo the weak
Hopin' somebody's on knees prayin' fo' me
In the hour, somewhere on them drugs
In a room full 'o thugs, 40' 'em how it was

They shot my mama's house up, in 1992
I keep goin' back an' play like I don't know who
If I who? What? When? Where an' how?
If I back then, would I know now?

The rap game ain't gon' be decreasin'
The only thing the rap game gon' keep on doin' is
And will be no over night sensations them 40, 8ball, MJG
Only drip we been it down since Trout season

Now, all of a I look good as Toni Braxton
In a white wit toys of traction
Up-percussion, ya may take a second look
You can find me in the Florida book

The hall of game, is a 420 wit rims all day
up on [Incomprehehsible]
Nigga, this ain't none of that only I'm doin' a song wit dude
An 'em is I want they region, recognize game
recognize game

360 degrees of game, talkin' 'bout game, talkin' game
360 degrees of game wit bomb on the brain
360 degrees of game, talkin' 'bout game, 'bout game
360 degrees of game wit hella on the brain

A-la, la, la
A-la, la, la