Luyện nghe bài hát A.W.O.L.

It's another motherfucker
You know it's Animal the Mixtape nigga, MTB
You know how I do it the way I do it I do it the way I do it
Motherfucker stab you in your throat with a
Shoot you in the face with a gun
Whatever I do to you to the conrete I'ma do it, you heard?
My motherfuckin A, it's the closin of the album nigga
I salute you nigga, for bein a bitch
For bein a bitch-ass nigga {*music starts*}
Cryin, retirin, sayin you comin to the game
Go findin God and comin back, keep gettin shot and back
Niggaz doin mixtapes and back
Lyin 'til y'all with guns and comin back
comin back baby, you in the top five man
Y'all pay The Source for mics man
Cause you know how to be an original nigga from the streets
I respect you man, it out like this, 2-double-oh-5
Fuck the world, you heard, say what's up A.W.O.L. it

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