Luyện nghe bài hát Ballers Feud

Chorus *(phats & val young)* 2x

That's the ballers
A thug changes, and changes
That's the feud
And best friends strangers.

1*(yukmouth)*

says...
You know fake mutha fuckas
I some bustas too
This fake mutha fucka been rukus in my crew
'92
At first I thought he was like dru
hollerin the dangerous crew, but if you only knew
Them don't wanna hang wit you
'cause of the you do
a thang or two
Talkin bad bout yo homies, two bitches who juss be you
Niggas thinkin bout you, the game is true
Everywhere we go the hoo bangin you
Makes it hard for me to swang wit you
That's why niggas hang wit dru, my pimpydoo
Folk-el, smoke out my range
What?
these broke-els
I hate it niggas be playin wit yo mail, because they only end up
out
Broke as
buckets
I'm luxury cars and plus shit
Benz the lexus the to fuck wit
So you wanna be
You to get a bitch to fuck you fo free
You g's fo pussy.

*(chorus)* 2x

2 *(numskull)*

There's too many
Too many
Too many
Too many
Too many pimped out fuckas
So now we got the east coast and the west coast to see who's

The mutha fucka is the richest and the genius
What if you stumbles, like buyin too many
Wit rims to put on yo shit, too many couches
Who the nigga, I think you knowin
Sheadin tears from bitches who take yo shit and keep
An come back, 'cause they done sucked you dick and yo cabbage
Got 20 across america livin lavish
Hatin is juss a hoe thang, yo, I gotta live that
A bitch can wit me, or hit the track
You can talk about pimpin, you can about killin
But when that goes down, sound minds will be revealin
When you die and comeback, maybe you can try and beat me
But don't try now, 'cause you can't see me
22, ready to hoo ride at moments
First to swang, hittin noses, eyes can't
Hocus
Now 25 on ya
Juss you moved from california
feud.

*(chorus)* 2x

3 *(kastro)*

We went from ones, on the way up
To no at all
Time to go though, so I don't no fucks at all
Cross the
Don't be playin, stoned get
I shed wit this, and that can't be gone, overnight
hate
Man, could be a mutha fucka
Close friends, close as cat scan, love 'em like my
Now i
See 'em dyin a mutha fucka
Slow death, no
Man I love it my mother
And that's some shit, I'm on some mo' swole shit
Listen
thick
Lady
this shit, on yo clit
Niggas I'm flossin k-cash
Cash
You want I'm holdin, my wife an my life stolen
enemy, authority
Police are all
Richeously, this life fo' me ain't as bad as it to be
But in all I love, all I love
Take my ten fingers, my ten toes, an outta love
Do it fo ya'll, all
My girl an god
This crazy world a knife in the heart of my cause
Now half part of me
The part of me scarred
Death wit out health, but still a nigga to god.

*(chorus)* 4x