Luyện nghe bài hát Artillery

Artillery motherfucker, legit bitch but don't get it twisted
Ain't no hoes here
Yeah, we got guns nigga, at all you hating bitches

From K-Town to the Manor, Holy City to the wild
The war is on, and all my is riding
Todd Nitty, what you got for these
(Click, clock, blast)

I got that 9 double M glock, the infrared beam dot
Aiming at your knot, making your stop
out, "Fuck tha po", who some call it 5-0
Better look out for they pull that kick door

but gangstas, that's all who I hang with
Slanging thangs with, came up in the game with
The fucking hood rats, because them some broke
Me get a rich and stick her for her dough

The Manor in that K-Town, how we put it down
Letting off fifty rounds, how our shit sound
up the ass, sullies and ski masks
9's and bubble masks, gunning at ass

Motherfucking street thugs, ballers
Money and the power, moving that
Taking no shorts and taking no
Hauling asses off in coffins with that

One, two, three, 45.'s
Six, seven, eight, milli-meter
Ten, eleven, twelve gauge nigga
One, two, three, 45.'s
Six, seven, eight, nine
Ten, eleven, gauge pump nigga

One, two, three, 45.'s
Six, seven, eight, nine
Ten, eleven, gauge pump nigga
One, two, three, 45.'s
Six, seven, eight, nine
Ten, eleven, twelve pump nigga

A nigga riding stealers, hustlers, killers all my life
Legit Ballers bitch, don't even try to fuck with us
Because we mobstas
You with that bullshit, then pussy I'll pop ya'

See it's that nigga Todd
That be squeezing like bitches titties
Who is it, the most left on
crept on nigga, with that Teflon nigga

And it blow blow, body bag that bitch
Sent his ass to the morgue with the of them snitches
I heat 'em up like a Newport
Left his ass with holes than a golf course

What you thought boy, I'm that 9th Ward
them stories are true about them Manor boys
How we leaving 'em, bleedin' and on the ground
Like a dead nigga now

One, two, three, 45.'s
Six, seven, eight, milli-meter
Ten, eleven, twelve gauge nigga
One, two, three, 45.'s
Six, seven, eight, nine
Ten, eleven, twelve gauge nigga

One, two, three, 45.'s
Six, seven, eight, nine
Ten, eleven, twelve pump nigga
One, two, three, 45.'s
Six, seven, eight, nine
Ten, eleven, gauge pump nigga

I got that love for my nigga Twist, for aid and
He me holsters, caught him up in some bullshit
Don't even trips though, I'm heading in route
Soon as I roll up, we puttin' lights out

a clip in, with one in the chamber
Finna' ride on a stranger, put the hoes life in
Started letting off hollows, straight they car door
I'm a G from Chicago, pull the game weightless I go

Bustin' pistols with injects
holes in they Avarex
Going straight your tailored vests
Now it's you or your next

Now we got boy tied up, to the hideout we ride up
They gonna show us the stash-pot, the little handles side up
Took the and lello, and that's how the day goes

Get the bankroll, gank hoes, and I got the 44.
Time to finna' go
Hit 'em with

One, two, three, 45.'s
Six, seven, eight, milli-meter
Ten, eleven, gauge pump nigga
One, two, three, 45.'s
Six, seven, eight, milli-meter
Ten, eleven, twelve pump nigga

One, two, three, 45.'s
Six, seven, eight, milli-meter
Ten, eleven, twelve gauge pump
One, two, three, 45.'s
Six, seven, eight, nine
Ten, eleven, twelve gauge nigga