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

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

It's a after nine on my AM, FM
Shack, digital motel, six o clock alarm reads
"40, get your ass up, to hit the grind
You afford to pass no money, I know you heard about that"

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

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

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

I does that, I do, rejuvenate,
Take a lose, take a lose make a scene
Nigga charge it to the triple beam, the stress
I let that orange box of baking do the rest

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

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

Last night I slapped a bitch upside her with my faulty phone
That Heifer's tired she tried to slash my
Caught me in the bed with her Tanji
From the she use to hold my sack
I use to her down

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

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

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

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

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

Uhh, hold the on
Did you or did you not tell these niggaz to stay they envelope?
Shit, these toddlers is to the game
They ain't know about these tramps
Six bedroom flats and dealt
And held a across the mat
You see we the Yay, where we control they minds
And put these hoes on the

Ain't got to but I still it
to 7-Eleven, picked up a traders book
And bought a
Use to have a perm taller than the Hornets
But I had to cut that bitch off 'cause see partna had warrant

That I ain't even handled yet, I'm havin' cake
The little 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, by, get at a honey
I these streets like I know my dick
I can tell you who the nigga is that's to get jacked
And the nigga that the lick

I got this bitch on
999,999 plus a dollar in a safe box
crops still in this roster
Kilogram, leaf and morphine
What about my in the 415?
Look they made

My niggaz in the
They call it
Top regeneration, uncut
Designer weed, hempilation, what the fuck?

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