Luyện nghe bài hát Body Bagz

Cory
Get Ready. Get Steady.
Bloody Shredded.
Heavy debted. Credit
For you get jelly-spread.
The let me let it.
go Lindsey at it.
coke with envy.
n Richie n Britney's habit.
Cass, a Lotta rappers seem militant, n be itchin' .
nuthin but wood on da shelves like a kitchen cabinet.
cause if i feel da static. i the matic. they'll getta static.
the cal. will go sporadic. now its not so
to no compatible establishment.
U broke-nose, for tryin' to jones my Ozone.
embarrassment
shit im feared as an terrorist
im poppa's tool when im trying to bring yall Hailly
a risk at reading braille, stare at dis.
u dont live M.O.B. . . u nuthin but a therapist.
Nigga my M.O.B. get money. even no T. no penalty.
when no C. that dinero B. all i see mentally.
i y'all from manual to automatic physically.
chemistry infiltrate my men in street.
we in Da - you industry.
LARCENY, militia march wit us.
if not, Cass put em on sum nother chart from us.
Bagz!

I got my on my damn cock
Cause man, I copped a gun so big it could kill hancock
I'm not a rat, me? to the damn cops
It's like Fericon eatin' hamhocks
I'm a gorilla, but I'm slicker than a fox
Been cool pre-school, playin' in the sandbox
I'm a hustla, I used to hand-to-hand, 'n I could stand on the block sellin' gram after
And no I'm not from Japan, na', but it just look like it's asian in me, 'cause I got the hazy me
I been to jail, I got a hundred days up in me
But I still keep the HK, keep the razor me
I ball hard, so other is afraid to stick me
'Cause if I get fouled I'll shoot the tech
And you can be the next dude that I to death
I wild-out, but if I foul out, I'll the ref
I'm happy when I'm in the coupe, but the depressed
'Cause I always put them down in the trunk, I put them now
I got dough, ever O put a pound in my hand
I been the man, you should put the on my dome
I'm on the phone, havin' conference calls, millionaires
Yeah, look I accomplished, y'all
And I ain't to take your life, I got a conscience, y'all
Plus the law send you up north, a compass, y'all
I was seventeen livin' out with y'all
I the rough riders with a flow that was bonkers y'all
I can't lie, you could ask DMY
You could ask swiss too, SP and too
You could ask DMX, the female too
And they'll let you know all the I had to get through
You ask track and sheep, about how I had to eat
Thousands of up, yup, I had the streets
But no money in battlin', and I had to eat
I could spit reckless, but I had to make a hit
And now I make hit record hit record
And I make chicks get
Like this it,
I lick my lips on some LL shit,
And then I 'em laugh, on some David Chappelle shit,
And they be on some let's go to the shit,
I Give 'em hard dick on some just got out of shit
The innocent man, in the can
But I never a statement, never been on the stand
And I'm independant now, but that in the plans
it's all about the benjamins man,
talk,
And you dudes walk in my timbalands man,
And my sneaks don't fit you, the streets don't fuck you
I sip champagne and I back shots,
And I smoke pot the color of a Apple box,
I rap but I crack rock,
And had the block jumpin' like the frog on the smacks box,
You dig
Bagz!