Luyện nghe bài hát Ask Son

Niggas, man
Fuck up, trying to me nigga?
man, what?
Global thugs
Crab frontin for what?
Pollyin
Word, on god
What What

Joe Mafia]
Crab niggas frontin for what? We gotta 'em
Trick bitches lickin for vicks, we splash 'em
U.F.O.'s all on the dick, we tax 'em
is the shit, you better ask son

[Joe
I'm driving megaton bombs,
Modern day babylon, we storm ex-cons
Expressure with the swarm, mellow with the
Mob with meladon, ghetto status clappin Decepticons
Stealth arm, I'mma welt dealt, fucking feltron
We teflon, you wan't huh? A lying arm spar
Titan clash, bergaham, shit on my wally pad
Liftin skirts dash, run for stash
Dirt bags, serving just, I.C.E.
You heard of us, of VA Cats and shag burglars
Danadesty, copping blow, polly Ross Perot
Treasury gold, the mapin

2X

Classic tight, street main get rich
For crimin hands itch, or clap a niggas land with
Myalansky, my mans got plans see
Stacks and grands, who dem cats damn, mad cream
though I had to let them fags know for real yo
Chill with the rap you clowns uplift your shields though
Daddy-O, whatup, Pop the G blew the spit out
Apachi and P your shit locked
Niggas must be stupid or
my man Shan with,
Kidnappin my man little
And now the fans
All of my thugs eating hell's kitchen
ass niggas, stop snitching

2X

Yo, Red Joe you better snitchin boy
Up
All you niggas snitchin, we you out
You know what I'm (echo)