Luyện nghe bài hát $999,999 + $1 = A Mealticket

Huh? Want me to speak the
Speak the man
Nigga, speak the
the real
Speak the
Speak the
the real

It's a after nine on my AM, FM
Radio Shack, digital motel, six o clock reads
"40, get ass up, time to hit the grind
You can't afford to no money, I know you heard about that"

What, what? "Task raided Millersville, Ms. had a heart attack"
Dude, that's cold shit, ain't it huh?
I know, she was a person for certain I know

V-Town, California, where I was born, and grown
And since 1979, I been a on the go
You the drill, my mission for real, a mealticket
You feel, we but surely approachin' seven digits

Figurines, sticky doo hicky and Angel
Mescaline, niggas know better fuck with us
I'm pimped out flossin' in Reno in the
Big bid, fuckin' off feddie, I could've put down on a

I that, I do, rejuvenate, redeem
Take a lose, take a lose don't make a
Nigga charge it to the triple beam, the stress
I let that orange box of baking soda do the

Holler at my chef, Raul
for cloning chickens and turning one into two
That's what he do for a living, that's all used to
Playtex rubber dish gloves and residue, biotch

Bullshit ain't
You see we gone this thuggin'
And mean muggin', jump until it's a deal
You see E-40 and Sick Wid, it the real, nothin' but
if I bring this back down?
Which one, one cap'n?
You got to be it or be without it
Be about it or without it, ay, you know
I smell you on that playboy,
We fin to run down a whole tac on these bitch ass,
Niggas ain't smellin' this shit, we do shit

Last night I slapped a bitch her dome with my faulty phone
That Heifer's tired she tried to my tire
me in the bed with her cousin Tanji
From the track she use to hold my
I use to dick her

Way back in she use to look just like a sketch
But now that bitch got a ass, tits, body and boy, bitch is bad
For what worth, the pussy smelled like Certs
Secret

Now folks, just remember, I never said I thought about pussy
I said I never about eatin' it
Keepin' it and treatin' it
that, I'm a hog

I put it down, I'm from the
Where I live on the of town on the tuck in the cut
In some apartments, man
I'm a so you know I ain't got shit in my name

I'm ghetto celebrity, niggaz get buried
Ready for combat if you plottin' and
Oh if you come for me and my dough
Let the be the bail
But my suggestion is to stay your envelope

I'm to block, swingin' on vines
service, put up stop signs

Uhh, hold the on
Did you or did you not these niggaz to stay within they envelope?
Shit, these toddlers is green to the
They know nothin' about these tramps
Six bedroom and gettin' dealt
And held a hand the mat
You see we from the Yay, where we control they
And put these hoes on the

got to but I still touch it
Went to 7-Eleven, up a traders book
And a bucket
Use to have a perm taller than the Hornets
But I had to cut that bitch off see your partna had warrant

I ain't even handled yet, although I'm havin' cake
The homie from the hood, want me to put out his tape
He kinda too, remind me of The Click crew
'Cause they was that old high powered
Godzilla ballin' guru, ass type you can relate to

Wake to, 'scape to when sunny
Ride by, slide by, get at a
I know these streets I know my dick
I can tell you who the nigga is about to get jacked
And the nigga that pulled the

I got bitch on lock
999,999 plus a in a safe deposit box
Marijuana crops still in this
Kilogram, coca and morphine
What about my niggas in the
Look they made

My niggaz in the
call it made
Top grade regeneration,
Designer weed, straight hempilation, the fuck?

Sheit, sheit, sheit, sheit sheit, sheit
999,999 plus a dollar, plus a man
Plus a dollar, a dollar, man, equals a mealticket bitch
Biotch, sheit, sheit, it