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
Speak the
the real

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, some cold shit, ain't 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 approachin' seven digits

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

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

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

ain't nothin'
You see we gone keep this
And mean muggin', jump it's a done deal
You see E-40 and Sick Wid, it bring the real, but
What if I bring this back
Which one, which one
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 a whole tac on these bitch ass, niggaz
Niggas ain't smellin' shit, we do this shit

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

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

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

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

I'm ghetto celebrity, niggaz get buried
Ready for 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 your envelope

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

Uhh, hold the on
Did you or did you not tell these niggaz to stay within they
Shit, these toddlers is green to the
ain't 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 minds
And put these on the grind

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

That I 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 was spittin' that old high powered
ballin' guru, ass type shit you can relate to

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

I got bitch on lock
999,999 a dollar in a safe deposit box
Marijuana crops in this roster
Kilogram, coca leaf and
about my niggas in the 415?
Look they made

My niggaz in the
call it made
Top regeneration, uncut
Designer weed, straight hempilation, what the

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