Luyện nghe bài hát Body Bags

Fuck it, I we gotta kill what we eat, right?
It's not a problem, really not a problem. Southside

Okay, the dope up, the coke addin' up
The smoke up, my pockets are fattened up
I got bitches in my bedroom, on computers
Diamonds my neck, straps for my shooters
I made it, ma', I made it
I grind so hard to get here I be faded
I got on the line, five different kinds
Five different crimes, .45
Got a plan to to premise, see, a nigga ain't lyin'
'Cause they ain't say I did it and I ain't gon' say I did it
And I might go back and to court, but I bet I get acquitted
Can you dig it? Nigga, can you dig it?
changed, a nigga ain't broke
I had a size as a shoe box, it felt like a vault
Now I got money, that "fuck how you feel" money
"nigga, you look at me wrong, get killed" money

You gon' be of my body bag ritual
Hop out, out to get at you
You gon' be of my body bag ritual
.45 lettin' off shit at you
You gon' be put in a bag, bag
You won't get a chance to back

I peep my swag in the mirror, I I got a crush on me
I want no wack bitches touchin' me
threads, satin sheets on my bed
Get a bitch sea-sick, all on my head
Diamonds in my ear, chandelier
underwear, I'm so fly it ain't fair
Every day a different dime
Rose Gold, a different time
Hublot, AP or
Your bitch and jeweler know me, homie
I'm bulletproof, go 'head, take a at me
You be a dead like the last one that got at me
My shirt level three, so I got a vest on
My heart like ice, my chest like
I'm a nightmare right here, me and my knife, nigga
let me find out you ain't 'bout that life, nigga
It's doomsday, I mean day
I the orders, like, "air out the room, Dre"

You gon' be part of my bag ritual
Hop out, out to get at you
You gon' be part of my body bag
.45 off some shit at you
You gon' be put in a bag, bag
You won't get a to fire back

The mileage had a ass trippin', strippin' in my kitchen
Push my thumb in her ass I was strokin' her kitten
I be in my own zone, still the chrome
Talk of the art, [?]
My passport pages, I'm fuckin' round' out in London
Jetlag from jets [?]
Trippin' in my charm, bitch, I'm a don
So go how I say it go, fuck if I'm right or wrong
My paper long, bomb in the bong
It feels I'm dreamin' 'cause a nigga on
I'm so far from a down, I'm out in Miami now
My bitch no speak no ingles, she off the boat
She me neck, what you expect? I got connects for the dope
I'm no joke, 30k on the coke, stuff ten in the coat
Nigga, front, I'll a hand full of dreadlocks
Bitch, I hit your ass a head-shot

You gon' be part of my body bag
Hop out, out to get at you
You be part of my body bag ritual
.45 lettin' off some at you
You gon' be put in a bag, bag
You won't get a chance to fire