Luyện nghe bài hát Banks Victory

[50
Yo, yo we stay alive forever
So if shit hit the fan we might as well die together
I'm high as ever, hoes and more cheddar
G-Unit move around wit pounds and berreta's
Yea faggot, if I want it I'm gon' it
Regardless if it's to me or I gotta grab it
Don't make a ass yaself tryin to stop me
I'm cocky, raps rocky, nigga you
You that I'm, 8 levels above you nigga
I'll club you nigga, I never heard of you nigga, its ugly
I'm the wrong one to
You rattin on niggas is only leave you smoked
So the only thing left now is toast for cowrads
I got no friends, most of these cowards
They pop shit we start approaching these cowards
While we lay around dollars, they lay flowers

Banks]
I got a intergangstress who and steams wit reefer
And who flip when I call a bitch she Queen Latifah
Not all the vehicle's is long to stash the streetsweeper
This can get uglier than the Master P sneaker
We slidin through the ruckus, wit prada on the
Soon as spring break ho's home college wanna fuck us
I here to drop knowledge on you suckas
I'll sick rottweiler's on you fuckas, followin to cuff us
Top dollars to discuss this, whole zeros
When it comes to paper I a soul outta aero
I'ma before I lay floor berry
Besides, every rapper ain't a star, nigga plad bulbary
You can't tame Lloyd, by the big screen
You changin the channel looks I'm playin the game boy
I know the botherin ya vision
But reach and I'll put a dot on ya like its part of yo religion
Why wit a pigeon?
I'm blowin a 10 'cause Bush handin flyers for a in a prison
I'm in the gucci wit the green and red straps
I'm the last rapper to scare since Craig Mack
Now every a fast start
And there problem gettin dressed 'cause my closet got more aisles than pathmark
Run, startin to raid
and leave wit 12 shells in ya mouth like a carton of
I'm the young pardon my age
I don't got long hair but if I did she be partin my
We find out what club they at
take 'em wit us, and run a train on 'em like a mat
yer is a grey acura
these record labels got most artists gettin fucked the gay rappa'
i go to on a tour
I'm goin down in history nigga, next to Wallace and
I ya ammo clean, tec's polished in the drawer
Camera's by the hamper mine into the floor
by now, you heard of me
fresh outta surgery, flashy as a fuck, you gon' have to me
Burglary, were leavin wit cha nike's burgandy, T, burgandy
you now, back down
niggas love to hate you, but love you you disappear
catch me on the boat wit weed smoke and fishing
when I toke, C notes from different years
Besly in the robe, for liftin chairs
We ain't rich, but we be to snatch ya
I send cars to your crib I'm a cab dispatcha
you better off wit ya guys, lookin for a coupe to drive
you ain't nuttin but ya french fries supersized
it's a damn shame still local
I'm in a million studio layin my vocals

[50
Still in the projects nigga, you goin nowhere
you gon' fuckin be there for the rest of yo life
and yo momma said, I'm supposed to you somethin.....
to encourage you, positive
aight well I gon' lie to you muthafucka, he ain't goin nowhere
get a beer, get on the fuckin curb
dirtbag