Luyện nghe bài hát Body Parts 3

Crunchy Blac, Boogie Mane, Frayser Boy, Wyte, Chrome
Granddaddy Souf, Juicy J, Project Pat, DJ Paul the king of
'em up

Hypnotized minds, HCP, hypnotized posse
We finna do for all you thievin' ass
Wanna be us ass out there
Stealin' motherfucker, take ya fake asses on keep it real nigga
Make this like we makin' it nigga, throw it down

Ain't been a motherfuckin' bitch
Hypnotized just to get that grip
Y'all niggaz talk 'cuz ya talk a bitch
Y'all niggaz walk 'cuz ya walk a bitch

Now that some shit ya hatin' on this click
You gon' make a nigga get up cha kid
yo wig oh yes, I did
I told you, you don't want it a hard hitta kid

I done warned the spot to spot hit the locks
Hit a nigga for his stash
Took the rock was got that was the plot
Dodge the cops they labeled it another shop

Open it up for closin' it up I don't give a
On a daily basis I be it up
Smokin' it up it to match it wit dub
Give us a six mane tearin' it up

These niggaz misleaded I'mma throw the blow
a nigga shirt soaked playin' getcha merked hoe
Chop it yeah, I hope folk money I work fo'
Paul and sent me gotta put you in the dirt bro

Comin' with the pistols is we can get you guys
Frayser boy bizzle or beezy the hypnotize
HCP my folks weed got my eyes low
If you what I know run that shit to my doe

We back we smack motherfuckers
If you step in our way attack motherfucker
But ya'll know ya'll done all that befo'
done seen the fo-fos and folks kick in ya doe

You seen the gauge pump bout to see a Chevy trunk
Lights out to the Mississippi river plumped
Duck tape hog wrong place wrong time
Hypnotized trick knocked ya up off ya grind

All my muhfuckers you niggaz should already
I'm the truth and out the booth never a hoe
Get yo ass flipped sideways cut ya the doe
You ain't know I'm a rich gangsta nigga

Never been one of old type wanksta niggaz
I'm a smart ask my mama who made me
A lotta niggaz mad 'cuz they they can't fade me
I'm Carleone Paul and Juicy who pay me

Well it's ya boy grandaddy me Mr. Man
Fuckin' ya aunties ya nieces and ya
See I could give a fuck about ya tossin' all ya talkin'
You don't like me nigga hit me in my

Man don't talk about it be about it get cha across then
Candy ass nigga boy you softer cotton
Fight me or squash it 'cuz I ain't the spit boxin'
Hootin and hollerin' like a cheerleader

You can't be like me D 'cuz I'm hurtin' ya
No competition with the 'cuz it's curtains
It ain't shakin' but some pimps in this bizitch
That's why you muggin' and yo face lookin'

flippin' cars ballin' out like to shizine
You stay questions how the hell them niggaz do that
We smoke the best of dro while she with some jack-jack
My eyes like the red carpet still on the blue

locked me up just like 2Pac and I went platinium
Laid it down for a calendar I'm right at 'em
Took my then weighed it up on a triple beam
Niggaz rob, kill, steal for that ghetty green

U.S. at my folks house want to kill me dead
Wanna see me in a pine box bullet in my
I'm was like, "I ain't did why you hatin' this?"
Ghetto thugs know my rap they relate to this

I been doin' this too long to be strugglin' livin' like this
Fuckin' off with major labels slayed me like a
And these got cheese and ride on it mean hoes
But still on the road doin' free

Tryna get a few spins in a few
I growed up back in the day I wouldn't use my
I hear a lotta corny on the radio
because they record company wouldn't spend dough

Yeah, my label got a up with MTV
But just keep forgettin' to tell 'em 'bout me
They try to play like its and it's family
But all my marketin' dollars to, shh

Tear da club up was the first crunk song
I that in 92 a lil' not long
That it took 10 sold and we still ain't on
That's why three 6 is the most known