Luyện nghe bài hát Banks Victory

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

Banks]
I got a intergangstress who argue and steams wit
And who flip I call a bitch like she Queen Latifah
Not all the vehicle's is long enough to stash the
shit can get uglier than the Master P sneaker
We through the ruckus, wit prada on the chuckus
Soon as spring break ho's home from college wanna us
I ain't to drop knowledge on you suckas
sick rottweiler's on you f**kas, cops followin to cuff us
Top dollars to discuss this, whole lotta
When it comes to I blow a soul outta aero
I'ma break before I lay berry
Besides, every rapper a star, nigga plad ain't bulbary
You tame Lloyd, smokin by the big screen
You changin the channel looks like I'm playin the boy
I know the rocks ya vision
But reach and I'll put a dot on ya head its part of yo religion
Why wit a pigeon?
I'm blowin a 10 'cause Bush handin for a party in a prison
I'm in the vest wit the green and red straps
I'm the rapper to scare niggas since Craig Mack
Now every morning's a fast
And aint problem gettin dressed 'cause my closet got more aisles than pathmark
Run, move startin to
and wit 12 shells in ya mouth like a carton of eggs
I'm the pimp pardon my age
I got long hair but if I did she be partin my braids
We just find out what club at
take 'em wit us, and run a train on 'em a subway mat
yer is a grey acura
record labels got most artists gettin f**ked like the gay rappa'
i go to college on a
I'm goin in history nigga, next to Wallace and Shakur
I ya ammo clean, tec's polished in the drawer
Camera's by the hamper mine into the floor
by now, you probably of me
fresh outta surgery, as a f**k, you gon' have to murder me
Burglary, were leavin wit cha burgandy, White T, burgandy
you now, back down
niggas love to hate you, but you when you disappear
catch me on the wit weed smoke and fishing gear
when I toke, C notes from different years
Besly in the robe, re-motes for liftin
We rich, but we be glad to snatch ya
I send to your crib like I'm a cab dispatcha
you better off wit ya stupid guys, lookin for a coupe to
you ain't gettin nuttin but ya french fries
a damn shame y'all still local
I'm in a million dollar layin my vocals

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