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

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

It's a quarter nine on my AM, FM
Shack, digital motel, six o clock alarm 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 Millersville, Ms. Miller had a heart attack"
Dude, that's some shit, ain't it huh?
I know, she was a good person for I know

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

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

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

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

ain't nothin'
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
What if I this back down?
Which one, one cap'n?
You got to be about it or be it
Be about it or without it, ay, you what?
I smell you on that playboy,
We fin to run down a tac on these bitch ass, niggaz
Niggas ain't smellin' this shit, we do shit

Last night I slapped a bitch upside her dome with my phone
That Heifer's 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 in eighty-six she use to look just like a sketch
But now that bitch got a ass, tits, and boy, that bitch is bad
For what it's worth, the pussy smelled like
Victoria's

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

I put it down, I'm from the
Where I live on the outskirts of town on the in the cut
In empty apartments, man
I'm a baller so you know I ain't got 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 buzzer be the
But my suggestion is to within your envelope

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

Uhh, hold the on
Did you or did you not tell these 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 they minds
And put these on the grind

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

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

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

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

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

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