Luyện nghe bài hát 500 Degreez

It's the shit, yeah
500 this time bitch
You already

You see me? I eat, sleep, shit and snaps so fuck rap
Man I got weed, pills, pistols, or
Bitch niggas, "Where ya at?"
Ya'll ain't stuntin' us bitch niggas, "Where ya cars at?"

like
Wayne why the you dressed in all black?
I'm to bring CMR back
And all the lames, we done that

Now all we got is weezy, weezy, and lil' to fall back
I'm 'bout to lock it the summer to the fall and back
"It's weezy baby!" the boy is
And the wheels on my car you got a order

Stop playing, I've been balling
You don't want my glock spraying I hit all cats
You don't my stomach ache I shit on them cats
I get on them cats and "B" it's all a rap
If I'm the only hot boy what do you call that?

You don't want to fuck with
You don't want to fuck weezy

Bitch I'll bust ya ass up
Don't even go that round get your cash up
We need to clash up, this shit got me 'bout to ass up
They finding niggas in they with they ass up

It ain't October thirty first but we gone up
And guess what aye, you know I heard they got some nice
And for the right price I'll the right brain
And mommy hot 'cause I pull up in that thang

Oh, but ya nigga be fly but I still get trifling
through the city just me and my flame
Friday special professional tight thang

A gangsta is who you
I'm in my with twenty bricks in the ceiling
I'm more real than, I got scrill than
Got more skill than there, I'm a cash money millionaire, bitch

You don't want to fuck with
You don't want to fuck weezy
Hot boy, hot, hot, hot boy
Hot, hot, hot boy, hot, hot, hot boy

Baby, let me get the to the rover
No, let me get the keys to the house in
So I can throw a 500 degreez platinum
Than the after party my squad stomping in this

Fuck a kappa
go to rapper parties, I'm no rapper man
But the homies come home we throw a monster jam
And all my people chrome we some monsters man

We mob to the promise land
I ball big, I'm a man
Son of a stunna steady fuck with a hustler

Weezy keep it gutter for ya bubba
blue mercedes coupe got it bullet proof
Make me shoot my eighty at your fucking roof

You're barkin' with a big dog, fucking roof
Mr. S Q I'm the fuckin' truth
Three stripes, baby nice, lot of ice bucket
That's 500

You don't want to fuck weezy
You don't want to fuck with
500, 500, 500, 500

Bitch get mind right
Bitch get mind right
get your mind right