Luyện nghe bài hát Bout It Bout It..., Pt3

[Intro: P] + (Cam'Ron)
Yo Cam, flip this thing on these niggaz
me
(Let's do it my nigga)
Well do your
(There's nothin', man)
(Up top, south, right)
Oh yeah, oh
(We it)
whoadie
(Yeah)
Yo, this one here out to them boys
bout it, bout it
Master P,
We takin' this the South to the East

I represent, them killers at
and Broadway you get your head cracked
Get legs snapped, arm trist, ribs cracked
Wig tapped, play day care kids napped
You think you real, well my posse is
Your moms mobbin' and rapin' her, Saudi
I'm 89 and oh, and eightiers
in N-O I had to call No Limit up
Baby baby gat love the way the baby
Got my baby boo, cop the X5, that's a truck
Santana rollin' big, in the Caddy
Dayton, Youngstown, Cleveland,
In the Double-O I the C-O
Please ho, Harlem World if that's me, yo
Clipse eleven or bricks get off
Snow so white only thing missin' is dwarfs

[Hook] P]
Killa Cam, you know he it, bout it
Jim Jones, you know he bout it, it
Freeky Z, you know he it, bout it
Santana, that boy it, bout it
Harlem World, you know they bout it, it
Diplomats, you know rowdy, rowdy
145th and Broadway, them real
You know them boys, don't play

Aiiyo, I'm bouncin' through an or two
My crib look the Fountainblue
A fountain too, no water, pumpin' Mountain Dew
Front on y'all little cats I was to do
I made a weird, can't pronounce my shoes
I got head but more mouth
119th to the whorehouse, soon as the out
Papi's rotten, my top was spoppy poppin'
I pop ack over some oxi
Cotton club and Robins
Rubies and we poppin'
Booties, and glocks'll stop 'em
on his head, copper top him
When I'm in the building dogg, you got to him
Got to him tray eight a floor revolver
The D.A., and coroner's problem - now
Highs get eight done, dips that play none
Jim Jones, Freeky, Killa and the great one -

[Jim
You know I (What you claim?) where them gangstas bang
and Lennox, nine tray they do they own thing
In uptown, up on 40 a phat hit the block
he move that water shit, he like the network
Over wet work, you come up short on paper get a wet shirt
Then if you walkin' Foster and Taft
Flossin' that cash and put the torch to your ass
And I can't forget AK and
My straight crazy 'cause the AK'll blast ya
One callin' daddy and Q
LB's and Sally beat your crew, now on
And dope stacks, right in front the liquor
Hennesy, me me you know the flipped the raw
upset, oh yeah they bout it
16 shots up out the glock I about it

P]
140 Lennox, you they bout it, bout it
and up top, you know they rowdy, rowdy
Master P, the New No
You see us hustlas keep it real, that's why we winnin'
Blackadome, you know he it, bout it
Lucius Sheist, you they rowdy, rowdy
on, man we gangstas fo' sho
CP-3 Dirty South, the N-O
C-Murder, hold the block
We get paper whoadie even on
ATL, you know bout it, bout it
Mississippi, Detroit, you they rowdy, rowdy
L.A., you they bout it, bout it
Florida and North Carolina, you know rowdy, rowdy
Oklahoma and Tennessee, and Texas, they B-O-U-T
bout it, Hawaii rowdy
Alaska, Chicago, I mean they bout it, it
Indiana, you know they it
St. Louis, Kentucky, you know they rowdy,
bout it, Milwaukee bout it
The N-O to the N-Y, you know we rowdy,

[Outro][Jim Jones & P]
Bounce bounce bounce
Bounce bounce bounce
(You know rowdy, rowdy)
Bounce bounce fool
Bounce bounce bounce
(You they rowdy, rowdy)
Bounce bounce bounce
Bounce bounce bounce
(You they rowdy, rowdy)
Bounce bounce fool