Luyện nghe bài hát A.W.O.L.

It's interlude motherfucker
You know it's Animal the Mixtape nigga, MTB
You how I do it the way I do it when I do it the way I do it
stab you in your throat with a icepick
Shoot you in the with a beebee gun
I do to bring you to the conrete I'ma do it, you heard?
My motherfuckin nigga A, the closin of the album nigga
I salute you nigga, for bein a bitch
For never bein a bitch-ass {*music starts*}
Cryin, retirin, sayin you comin to the game
Go findin God and back, keep gettin shot and comin back
Niggaz doin mixtapes and back
Lyin 'til y'all with guns and comin back
Keep back baby, you in the top five man
Y'all niggaz pay The for mics man
Cause you don't how to be an original nigga from the streets
I respect you man, close it out like this,
Fuck the world, you heard, say what's up A.W.O.L. it

I am one of the flyest, is like the Al'Qaeda's
We war in the mess halls of Elmyra
Bodies get caught, predicate spells is
Why talk if you ain't walk through fire
All-nighters, upscale
In car get new cars you and your mans
Young messiah, back bottom guns for
I am that what the rap require
Ghostwriter, coast to coast
I do this for them grown men in that don't like us
Though, still the nicest, sendin kites to is priceless
Reminiscin on past fights with Cypress
lifeless, sprung from financial crisis
Never ran, I amongst the righteous
AZ-Q, dark V suits
His, is lethal, only pardon his people so
Just ask it open the closed
Coke or the dope I'm back on that old Shaft shit
Got my ratchets, army fatigue
Fitted cap on backwards with them from Flatbush
Bravehearted, fuck if say squash it
We the largest, we invade regardless
Trains to Spofford insane with a from Hartford
It's hard to explain my
One for the haters, two for the and the raiders
I dudes who eat your food with a razor
It's major, barbaric, brutal
Called addict, I talk about the jewelry
My is for the DL cartel connects
And the crews that came through and left arise well
Finesse, big boys only play with the
It's no regrets, bein dead broke and raised in the
I'm a vet, cousin callin collect
he just left the box hot annoyed and depressed
Claimin he did a 3 still facin the stress
I'm like look this ain't the and you ain't facin your death
So save your breath, tie boots up and bang with the rest
Cause in reality they just your flesh
You know the deal, I pray they your appeal
Cause on the real, I got my hands on the wheel
And I'ma drive the gas run out
Either or a wrap 'til a smash come out
We them real