Luyện nghe bài hát Big Beast (Instrumental)

Hardcore G shit, homie, I play around
Ain't sweet bout the peach -- this Atlanta, clown
Home of the dealers and the strippers and the clubs,
Catch you coming out that Magic with a snub, ho
Lurking in the club on motherfuckers
to Atlanta, up your jewelry, motherfucker!
These monkey niggas for some Luda and Jermaine
And all a nigga found was a Ruger and pain
Pow, motherfucker, pow! up off the chain
Pow, motherfucker, pow! One off in the
We some money-hungry wolves, and we down to eat the
Your ain't shit, we strip him like a stripper bitch
real-ass killers move in silence with violence
The it set off, we the motherfucking wildest
How you from Atlanta that they never speak
Where everybody got a sack of and a gun

And you know how it go
We ain't playing with that bullshit
Nigga, we ain't let that go
you come here, you better come correct
This real G shit, you gotta respect

Once a time in the projects
An O.G. saw a Bun B as a prospect
Thought that I would understand the streets a very young age
So he opened up the G to the front page
He sat me on the porch, said, "This where little sit"
Pointed at the yard, said, "That's big dogs shit"
He said, "Don't til your ass get growed
And don't back til your ass get throwed
Whatever you want is you can have
the pain and leave em wet, like they soaking in some salve
When you step out on the ave, make sure they see ya
Cause trill is an onomatopoeia
Be it like a G, a hater wanna catch you slipping
Try to be a Jordan, but for a Pippen"
Player, I ain't tripping, but I don't really care
Cause my pistol's in your face, so put your in the air

And you just how it go
We ain't playing round with bullshit
Nigga, we ain't let shit go
When you here, you better come correct
real G shit, you gotta show respect

In a six, I'm riding with a grip, banana clip
From Road to Adamsville, I'm repping this Atlanta shit
Nigga to handle up, let's see can they handle this
A hundred round at em, that ain't no shit
on that Hennessey, blowing on that cannabis
Amerikkka's nightmare, trap fantasy
A record of felonies, searching for a better me
But choppers go off in my like Iraq, Cuba, Tel Aviv
Pretty nigga, let him be, him, shorty
Sucker nigga I'll never be, don't a fuck about it
Quick to up on that Audi, make em get the fuck up out it
Nigga better be about it, he deserve it he it
What's a coward to a
He ain't robbed a man, ain't or prey; the law of nature where I stay
I catch you with that K, ain't no illusion, no confusion
Better come up off that cake and all that jewelry or snoozing

And you just how it go
We ain't playing with that bullshit
Nigga, we ain't let shit go
When you come here, you come correct
This real G shit, you gotta show

Wha-da-da-dang,
Listen to my clip that five go bang
bang, guap time, rep game
We the readers of the and the leaders of the crooks
Predators, we eyeballing all of y'all
Let me off, I'm taking all of y'all chains
All of y'all and all of y'all cars
Well, who you to? All of y'all stars
All of rappers and producers and such
No promo, homie, you might get your ass touched
Like Def Jam circa '83, you get
If you rolling some winners, then you rolling with us
I know some country niggas, but them niggas ain't weak
Know they dressing looking hard, but them niggas ain't
I don't dance music, this is R.A.P
Opposite of the sucker shit play on T.V

And you just how it go
We ain't playing round with that
Nigga, we ain't let that go
When you come here, you come correct
This real G shit, you gotta show