Luyện nghe bài hát Bakin' Soda In Minnesota

52 blue diamond
Rhymin', interior designin',
You can shake like me on the mic
Hit your point, hold your when you're rollin' the dice, baby
Uhh.. you go crash-and-burn
Or up in the morning with cash to earn, tiga
Check it get good with me
If just i can find your hood
Who is that in the car? yo be
All the way out here, yeah t
Russian, get the weed
Get the party
And watch yo back fo the
Nigga

We got bakin
All the way down in
We got soda
Down in

I got a for Adidas, boss
But I don't know what my Fila's cost, do ya
On chew, dem baby pit bulls
And ain't no way you can my....cool
The 12th at the Marriot
You know, me and my tigaz chill a lot

I sit alone when the on
With Tyson every time that the on, kill 'em
I remember rhymes used to with nets
Flight at the high with jets
You know Al Capone stretched to save the sets
And I'm down, t shirts and gats
Rhymes you can taste, Rhymes, Rhymes
Rhymes you can buy at the store
You who I am, I'm like credit card scam
Hot like soulfood, greens and
Extra-curricula, netting riddicula
Hit the cloud the bear or the fiddila
Shouldn've lied, I coulda been a friend to ya
Now i got to get rid of ya

We got bakin
All the way down in
We got bakin
Down in

I told my mom that made her cry
Looked her in the eye and said rappers die
We not gonna an' tour, but we gon get by
So most of us be in hell high, kickin'
Now put the on a triple beam
Now it up, and chop it up,
And try to into triple cream
Don't get with the same scheme
don't get caught with the same thing, King
It's you got to be bald
'cause and niggaz wanna see you go far
I they mad when I ticks them off
But I'm a hyena so i got to and break some off

The hot wax that's fatal
up to perfection like a weapon on a turntable
They say got a new baretta
And he'll be aiming his gat a crooked letter, foreva
I hit the night stormy weather
And if you brag about your freak, i'mma say way better
I like the hands of a clock
And find ways to make my rap all on your block
You knock on the door tiga
And lay them all on the tiga
'cause i think they more tiga
I em out like a flat tire
And hit the for Richard Pryor
Then call em all straight
The corks in me the tail of a fox
So get the hot, nigga
Or tigaz'll be caught