Luyện nghe bài hát Blue Armor

[Intro: Killah]

[Ghostface
Greasy, razor blades, shots spray,
Armor, keep blaze packed, all day, day
Day, ya'll bitch niggas got sweet hands, word
I know why, Ya'll all gay, pop off head
Get top rocked, way across state
The pamphlet read, from seven to nine, don't hold that
Ya'll just bait, I'm a fisherman, I own this
When I catch fish, I fry 'em, to they I flake
I ya'll muthafuckas like a seedless grape
And hang niggas like some ceiling in K-Mart plates
me? Shake double earthquakes, give thanks, give shanks
Word to my momma, I cut the grass on you snakes
Expose, don't tell, use a mo', the way
Go-Go down, gone the wind, he's a he-she
Bitch ass for sale, like Magilla
Standing in the window, a sign, "Yes, I fuck men, though"

[Interlude: Killah (Sheek Louch)]
Aiyo, (What up, dog?)
one of them niggas, nigga, word up!

[Sheek
Aiyo, my niggas is wetted, drunk and they trying to eat
The hammers on 'em, and they out looking for meat
I'm jumping out cars, I'm you permanent stars
Your hardest nigga, you compare him to ours
I'm on crates, I'm missing probation dates
I'm stuck with weight, my wifey period late
I'm hot as fuck, my truck keep tailed
It's like week, one of mines getting jailed
Forgetting bail, piss failed
Got on us, then wanna roll on us
I'm at my momma sleep, who told on us?
I'm sick to death, I'm on fire in the
Like in Back to the Future, when the car
Ghost'll for me, fuck, rap for me
Yo, them niggas on the Island, get strapped for me
Het wet ya, and the stocking
On his face, when he first met cha

Killah]
Yo, me and Sheek drug heads a bottle of Goose
I had my road follow your troops
game, African tribe, Somalian crew
With a flow so sick, my high body the flu
Crack heads get knocked out, right in of the school
Slap 'em Sheek, his ass up, he can't even move
Cereal box is crack and ratchets, in the cocaine
My fiends'll box filled with coke classics
Dope money, flood me of kush, heavy drags
Bodegas, I'm mad, my older sister a butch
Guns out like my mother's teeth, watch how I'm throwing heat
The leg gravy be steaming over beef
From eight-ball jackets to and robbers
My drug run, I threw in two bricks to garbage
I wash my money in Woodlife, dunyy, on Folgers
Black jewels trucking, still come bummy