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

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

It's a quarter after on my AM, FM
Radio Shack, digital motel, six o 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 cold shit, ain't it huh?
I know, she was a good person for certain I

V-Town, California, where I was born, and grown
And 1979, I been 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 and Angel Dust
Mescaline, know better than fuck with us
I'm out flossin' in Reno 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 don't make a scene
Nigga charge it to the beam, fuck the stress
I let orange box of baking 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 he's to
Playtex rubber dish washing gloves and residue,

Bullshit nothin'
You see we keep this thuggin'
And mean muggin', jump until it's a done
You see E-40 and Wid, it bring the real, nothin' but
What if I bring this down?
Which one, one cap'n?
You got to be about it or be it
Be about it or without it, ay, you know
I smell you on that playboy,
We fin to run down a whole tac on these ass, niggaz
Niggas ain't this shit, we do this shit

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

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

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 from the
Where I live on the outskirts of town on the in the cut
In some apartments, man
I'm a so you know I ain't got shit in my name

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

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

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 control minds
And put these hoes on the

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

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

to, 'scape to when it's sunny
Ride by, by, get at a honey
I know 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 bitch on lock
999,999 a dollar in a safe deposit box
Marijuana still in this roster
Kilogram, coca leaf and
about my niggas in the 415?
Look what made

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

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