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

Huh? Want me to 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, digital motel, six o clock alarm
"40, get ass up, time to hit the grind
You can't afford to pass no money, I know you heard that"

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

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

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

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

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

Bullshit nothin'
You see we gone keep this
And mean muggin', jump it's a done deal
You see E-40 and Sick Wid, it the real, nothin' but
What if I this back down?
one, which one cap'n?
You got to be it or be without it
Be about it or without it, ay, you know
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 this

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

Way back in eighty-six she use to look 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
Secret

Now folks, just remember, I never I thought about lickin' pussy
I said I never thought eatin' 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
Ready for combat if you plottin' and
Oh if you come for me and confiscate my
Let the buzzer be the
But my is to stay within your envelope

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

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

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

That I ain't even handled yet, I'm havin' 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
ballin' guru, ass type shit you can relate to

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

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

My niggaz in the
They call it
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, plus a dollar, man, a mealticket bitch
Biotch, sheit, sheit, it