Luyện nghe bài hát Body Bags

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

Okay, the addin' up, the coke addin' up
The smoke addin' up, my are fattened up
I got in my bedroom, nerds on computers
'round my neck, straps for my shooters
I made it, look ma', I it
I grind so hard to get here I be faded
I got lawyers on the line, five kinds
different 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 go back and forth 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 safe size as a box, it felt like a vault
Now I got money, that "fuck how you feel" money
That "nigga, you at me wrong, get killed" money

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 some at you
You be put in a body bag, bag
You get a chance to fire back

I my swag in the mirror, I think I got a crush on me
I don't no wack bitches touchin' me
Tailor-made threads, satin on my bed
Get a bitch sea-sick, waves all on my
Diamonds in my ear, Baccarat
Gabbana underwear, I'm so fly it fair
Every day a different dime
Gold, a different time piece
Hublot, AP or
Your bitch and your jeweler know me,
I'm bulletproof, go 'head, a shot at me
You be a dead nigga like the one that got at me
My level three, so I ain't got a vest on
My heart like ice, my chest teflon
I'm a right here, just me and my knife, nigga
Don't let me find out you ain't 'bout 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 bag ritual
.45 lettin' off shit at you
You be put in a body bag, bag
You won't get a chance to fire

The mileage had a shorty ass trippin', strippin' in my
Push my thumb in her ass while I was strokin' her
I be in my own zone, still the chrome
Talk of the art, [?]
My passport need pages, I'm round' out in London
from jets [?] baguettes
Trippin' in my charm, bitch, I'm a don
So shit go how I say it go, fuck if I'm right or
My paper long, bomb Kush in the
It feels like I'm dreamin' a nigga on
I'm so far a hammy down, I'm out in Miami now
My no speak no ingles, she fresh off the boat
She give me neck, what you I got connects for the dope
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 part of my bag ritual
Hop out, out to get at you
You gon' be part of my body bag
.45 lettin' off some at you
You gon' be put in a bag, bag
You won't get a chance to fire