Luyện nghe bài hát Body Bags

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

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

You be part of my body bag ritual
Hop out, out to get at you
You gon' be part of my bag ritual
.45 lettin' off some 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
Tailor-made threads, sheets on my bed
Get a sea-sick, waves all on my head
Diamonds in my ear, Baccarat
Gabbana underwear, I'm so fly it ain't
Every day a different dime
Rose Gold, a different time
Hublot, AP or
Your and your jeweler know me, homie
I'm bulletproof, go 'head, a shot at me
You be a dead nigga the last one that got at me
My level three, so I ain't got a vest on
My heart like ice, my like teflon
I'm a right here, just me and my knife, nigga
Don't let me find out you ain't 'bout that life,
It's doomsday, I goon day
I the orders, like, "air out the room, Dre"

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

The mileage had a shorty ass trippin', in my kitchen
my thumb in her ass while I was strokin' her kitten
I be in my own zone, clutchin' the chrome
state of the art, [?]
My passport need pages, I'm fuckin' round' out in
Jetlag jets [?] baguettes
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 Kush in the
It feels I'm dreamin' 'cause a nigga on
I'm so far from a down, I'm out in Miami now
My no speak no ingles, she fresh off the boat
She give me neck, what you expect? I got connects for the
I'm no joke, 30k on the coke, stuff ten in the coat
Nigga, front, I'll have a hand of dreadlocks
Bitch, I hit your ass a head-shot

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 get a chance to fire back