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.
addicts with envy.
n Richie n Britney's habit.
Cass, a rappers seem militant, n be itchin' addicts .
puttin but wood on da shelves like a kitchen cabinet.
cause if i feel da static. i peel the matic. they'll static.
the cal. will go sporadic. now its not so
to no compatible establishment.
U broke-nose, for tryin' to mike my Ozone.
embarrassment
shit im feared as an Afghani
im poppa's tool when im to bring yall Hailly Marias
Take a risk at braille, stare at dis.
u dont live M.O.B. . . u but a queer therapist.
my M.O.B. get that money. even no T. no penalty.
when no C. dinero B. That all i see mentally.
i shift y'all 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 whole chart from us.
Bagz!

I got my on my damn cock
man, I copped a gun so big it could probably kill hancock
I'm not a rat, me? Talkin' to the cops
It's like Lewis Fericon hamhocks
I'm a gorilla, but I'm than a damn fox
Been cool since pre-school, in the sandbox
I'm a hustla, I to hand-to-hand, 'n I could stand on the block sellin' gram after gram
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 couple hundred up in me
But I still keep the HK, keep the with me
I hard, so other ballers is afraid to stick me
'Cause if I get fouled probably shoot the tech
And you can be the dude that I shoot to death
I wild-out, but if I foul out, shoot the ref
I'm happy I'm in the coupe, but the roof depressed
'Cause I always put them in the trunk, where I put them now
I got dough, since O put a pound in my hand
I been the man, you put the crown on my dome
I'm on the phone, havin' calls, with millionaires
Yeah, what 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 out with youngers y'all
I sign the rough riders with a flow that was y'all
I can't lie, you could ask DMY
You ask swiss too, SP and kiss too
You could ask DMX, the female too
And let you know all the battles I had to get through
You could ask track and sheep, how I had to eat
Thousands of up, yup, I had the streets
But ain't no in battlin', and I had to eat
I could reckless, but I had to make a hit record
And now I hit record after hit record
And I make chicks get
this check it,
I lick my lips on some LL shit,
And then I make 'em laugh, on some David shit,
And be on some let's go to the hotel shit,
I Give 'em hard dick on just got out of jail shit
The innocent man, in the can
But I never a statement, never been on the stand
And I'm now, but that been in the plans
'Cause it's all the benjamins man,
talk,
And you dudes walk in my timbalands man,
And my sneaks don't fit you, the streets don't with you
I sip champagne and I throw shots,
And I smoke pot the of a Apple Jacks box,
I rap but I sold rock,
And had the block jumpin' like the on the honey smacks box,
You dig
Bagz!