Luyện nghe bài hát All About Money

[Young
You a thug me

1]
You can catch me stick it up,
it up,
Cut a shit over 50 bucks,
Need work on the low 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 chamber on the table when you for lunch,
and head up with door open feelin your blunt,
im from 20 gone by the end of the month,
i get smoke the weed to the end of the blunt,
Make sure 10 done been in the pump,
if its on-first thats a nigga wit luck,
all niggas playin games start em up,
'cause your young buck will start bendin em up,
as as your adrenaline pump,
make way dear lord im sendin em up

x2]
Its all money,
major paid,
stack your in all different ways,
tote your strap and keep your 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,
in the way gets sprayed brah,
anybody in the way sprayed brah,
wanna rough?
yall cats play tough
Tay wanna spray stuff, erase
niggas wanna start shit with gun then run,
Tay dont chase ya,
wait ta, replace ya,
hit em with the of the 45,
make em all duck, the four-five buck,
put em all up,
got 2 so we got you but we dont a fuck,
comin gunnin out the cut,
at you cats,
spittin 50 like im spittin on a track,
yall niggas that you cant hold that,
ima spit the gat the gat click-clat,
chit chat,
niggas gun that you beef with this here this heat gone burn,
ima ya cats how to bus yall guns,
hit a up and leave his ass left numb,
dont play me,
you know i the heat,
The A.K. gun down fatefully,
you think expectfully, just and see,
young buck and D-tay nigga to g,
If it to be, the boss in the cause,
my gun so big gotta limp I walk,
Dont the talk 'cause T.I.P. we comin,
go about money

x2]

[Verse 3 - Buck]
Its all thuggin,
paid and shit,
you either slang the or hit major licks,
thats why all my niggas be bricks,
yall see what we workin with,
not me doll,
i aint for shit,
G.S. 400 a leather kit,
oh you wanna holla?
whatever bitch,
dont say shit when the flip,
see a tote straps for the hell of it,
I givin a fuck about jealous shit,
And I dont smoke for the smell of it,
Just I kill, I inhale the shit,
You cant trail me I be in 50 states,
Paranoid, with 50 cakes,
once a nigga out its all heart 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 that all that count,
all amount,
but it go down and a nigga make all ya say all that out,
what you gunna do nigga you about,
either ride or die, when im in the south,
love the block, a nigga wake up,
i my face and then hug my glock,
brush my and scream south side,
a blunt and put on my socks,
but it still dont stop, dusk to dawn,
a nigga been out on his own-livin day to day,
see im only 17 but a nigga out just gains farm