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

Huh? me to speak the real?
the real man
Nigga, speak the
the real
Speak the
the real
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 raided Millersville, Ms. had a heart 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 1979, I been a hustler on the go
You the drill, my mission for real, a mealticket
You feel, we slowly but surely approachin' digits

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

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

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

Bullshit ain't
You see we gone this thuggin'
And mean muggin', jump it's a done deal
You see E-40 and Wid, it bring the real, nothin' but
What if I bring this back
Which one, one cap'n?
You got to be about it or be it
Be it or without it, ay, you know what?
I smell you on playboy, look
We fin to run down a whole tac on these ass, niggaz
ain't smellin' this 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 cousin
From the track she use to hold my
I use to her down

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

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

I put it down, I'm the hood
Where I on the outskirts of town on the tuck in the cut
In some apartments, man
I'm a baller so you know I got shit in my name

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

My niggaz in the
They it made
Top grade regeneration,
weed, straight hempilation, what 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