Luyện nghe bài hát B Ez

I heard that Capone's home
Yo, word to motha that nigga
his mothafuckin' thing thugged out
Entertainment, what I'm sayin'?

Niggas still in the streets, I'll
Braveheart nigga, there's a line
Between and business
So we gotta balance and be easy

I heard you fags wanna me off guard
Put Tecks to my heart, the of Escobar
your breath, whispers in the dark
I hear it the street ain't loyal to choose sides
Prepare for the beef, lose dies rich and I'm thuggin'

I can't trust nothin', this bitch I'm fuckin'
clip that I'm bustin' could jam in my fist
Look at my hand, finger pussy expensive rings
Cut coke cookies, wrote poetry and noses B
The voice from heaven, I'm God sent, of a legend
is part 1, speak my sermon, the hood reverand

Blunted eyes red, C-Class, a hundred times red
CD's blast, fast, haters drop dead
I'm gorgeous black Goddess flip the arm rest, the cordless
Her stacks the best, ass is flawless
the long awaited shit, ghetto people, the sequel
Nas, CNN, nobody's

Yo, b ez, keep the off the heezy
Straight in the back, drink creezy
B ez but we still treezy
See us rippin' the shows with thugged

Niggas me the boss, Ricky Ross
Lex two-fifty horse power, and devour the source
If it's flour then swallow your
I cock fours, in Poppi's doors

All for the and the cause
break big fractions of laws
So what, we got it up
every cat on the board
I speak the truth, spit at you

Shakin' my palm, it's pitiful, my wand
The Don, a hundred follow me Farrakhan
Chasin' my Henny, embrace
It's quite Frank, my niggas I'll

waste a penny, money stay well invested
Feel the on my necklace
When is too close flip the next shit
the game out bust biscuits, pull the range out

Public enemy, Queens Bridge I hang out
Sweet of weed, I wear like a fragrance
My energy's kinetic, mind power type

Yo, b ez, the club off the heezy
thugs in the back, drink creezy
B ez but we still smoke
See us rippin' the with thugged eezy

I see death through the corner, die, kingdom
Six 500's, up right in front of the slum
Sticky fingers soldiers of the great God
Clarence to the poor but he lived in Oz

An ill like Roy Jones, I'm a street corner bastard
And crush with the hashish
head dome wrapped
Caddy with the grills and the chrome snaps

I'm on point like Al Sharpton, come the M.U. marksman
The S-Class is shittin' on your weak
written on the Bible, my life is wicked
I see dead corpses and Royces

Put your on your lap, listen you hear voices
My whole persona is the drama and to skama
I can lift it up, what in front of your slut
bustin' out my pocket, your bank is stopped

Yo, b ez, keep the club off the
Straight thugs in the back, creezy
B ez but we still smoke
See us rippin' the shows thugged eezy