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

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

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

What, what? "Task Millersville, Ms. Miller had a heart attack"
Dude, that's some cold shit, it huh?
I know, she was a person for certain I know

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

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

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

at my neighborhood chef, Raul
Known for chickens and turning 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 gone this thuggin'
And mean muggin', jump until it's a deal
You see E-40 and Sick Wid, it bring the real, but
What if I this back down?
Which one, one cap'n?
You got to be it or be without it
Be it or without it, ay, you know what?
I you on that playboy, look
We fin to run down a whole tac on bitch ass, niggaz
Niggas ain't smellin' this shit, we do shit

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

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

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

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

I'm strictly ghetto celebrity, get buried
Ready for if you plottin' and plannin'
Oh if you for me and confiscate my dough
Let the be the bail
But my suggestion is to stay within envelope

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

Uhh, the fuck on
Did you or did you not tell these niggaz to stay within they
Shit, these toddlers is to the game
They ain't nothin' about these tramps
Six flats and gettin' dealt
And held a hand the mat
You see we from the Yay, where we they minds
And put these hoes on the

got to but I still touch it
Went to 7-Eleven, picked up a traders
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 tight too, remind me of The crew
'Cause they was spittin' old high powered
Godzilla ballin' guru, ass shit you can relate to

Wake to, to when it's sunny
Ride by, by, get at a honey
I know these like I know my dick
I can you who the nigga is that's about to get jacked
And the nigga pulled the lick

I got this on lock
999,999 plus a dollar in a deposit box
Marijuana crops still in this
Kilogram, coca and morphine
What my niggas in the 415?
what they made

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

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