Luyện nghe bài hát All About Money

[Young
You a like me

1]
You can me green stick it up,
it up,
Cut a nigga over 50 bucks,
Need on the low nigga hit me up,
Never quick enough pickin up,
Feds on a nigga ridiculous,
the game done brought all our shit to us,
I done bit the
Now i ride ? to the ind you bust,
Oh no move if my ind you touch,
17 but its real when you playin much,
one in the on the table when you chillin for lunch,
and head up with your door open your blunt,
im from 20 gone by the end of the month,
i get drunk the weed to the end of the blunt,
Make sure 10 shells been in the pump,
if its draw thats a nigga wit luck,
all niggas playin games start em up,
'cause your block buck will start bendin em up,
as soon as adrenaline pump,
make way dear lord 'cause im em up

x2]
Its all money,
gettin paid,
stack your cheese in all ways,
tote strap and keep your khakis creased,
yeah nigga, you a like me?

[Verse 2 -
They call me up
get em up put the aks on,
let em know we play sir,
anybody in the way sprayed brah,
in the way gets sprayed brah,
wanna rough?
yall wanna play tough
Tay wanna stuff, erase stuff
niggas wanna start shit with gun then run,
Tay dont chase ya,
Bullets ta, replace ya,
hit em with the of the 45,
make em all duck, with the buck,
put em all up,
got 2 so we got you but we give a fuck,
seals gunnin out the cut,
at you cats,
spittin 50 like im spittin on a track,
yall niggas know that you hold that,
ima the gat till the gat click-clat,
then chat,
niggas gun learn that you beef with this here this gone burn,
ima show ya cats how to bus guns,
hit a up and leave his ass left numb,
play with me,
you i spray the heat,
The A.K. gun down fatefully,
you think expectfully, just and see,
young buck and D-tay ready to g,
If it to be, the boss in the cause,
my gun so big gotta limp I walk,
Dont talk the 'cause T.I.P. we comin,
go about money

x2]

[Verse 3 - Buck]
Its all thuggin,
gettin and shit,
you either slang the dope or hit licks,
thats why all my be sevin bricks,
yall gunna see what we with,
not me doll,
i hurtin for shit,
G.S. 400 with a kit,
oh you dont holla?
whatever bitch,
dont say shit when the flip,
see a tote straps for the hell of it,
I aint givin a fuck about shit,
And I smoke weed for the smell of it,
before I kill, I inhale the shit,
You trail me bitch I be in 50 states,
Paranoid, about 50 cakes,
once a nigga find out its all no shake,
when I infest the place,
im out,
up in the house,
got it all-from the to a quarter ounce,
we da ass niggas, all work no slouch,
can i get there? all that count,
all amount,
but when it go down and a nigga all ya say all that out,
what you gunna do what you about,
either or die, when im raised in the south,
love the block, when a wake up,
i wash my face and hug my glock,
my teeth and scream south side,
smoke a and put on my socks,
but it dont stop, from dusk to dawn,
a nigga out here on his own-livin day to day,
see im only 17 but a nigga out here gains farm