Luyện nghe bài hát Broccoli

Let's get wid it, baby
wid it, baby, yeah
Let's get wid it, baby
Said, I'm gonna get so wid it, yeah
Said I'm gonna get

I don't need no doctor, I need no shrink
All I is broccoli and a 40-oz to drink
that broccoli now, takes me out
Smokin' broccoli now, takes me out

While I was
Bitch tried to hit me the head with her shoe
talin' 'bout, "Who the you been doin' it to?
home always smellin' like tuna fish and brew"

I "Bitch, if you don't get up outta my talkin' face
I'ma slap you tough-like
And I can almost rest you
That it ain't gon' be no sight"

3 sixty fin
I pull out my dick and my name in my piss
Shoot the fool, let's play for pink slips, whatchu slammin'
That there shit across the That ugly ass gremlin'

Buy sticky, you got the pillow
Here go some Black 'n' Mild style, split it down the
What's that? That Oakland Crip? Nah it's that widow
I was about to say cause botha have your ass
Up in the hospital, it out

I don't need no doctor, I don't no shrink
All I is broccoli and a 40-oz to drink
Smokin' that broccoli now, me out
that broccoli now, takes me out
Smell me on one, check it out

Hit up for and hold it for ten, I'm true lung
see who got the most wind, get 'em sprung
Make 'em wanna come back and spend, Afghani
From and Seagram's Gin

Fuck all of that Cristal-poppin', drinkin' Moet shit, I'm from the
Wheaties, Thunderbird, gorilla milk and
square wide country?, Wild Irish Rose
Smugglin' and scotch, Jagermeister and Tequila shots

Drinkin' forty was how I first got my figure
Then I to straight malt liquor
So hah, let me take a swig of that Royal
What you puttin' on that blunt Hash oil

My Panamanian saha from south San
On some marijuana farm down in San Luis
Wake yo' ass up Charlie Hustle, yo' ass up, why you asleep?
'Cause, nigga that shit got my twaskin' my life nigga,

that broccoli now, takes me out
Smokin' broccoli now, takes me out
I need no doctor, I don't need no shrink
All I need is broccoli and a to drink

two's and three's
Highly while I'm slidin' on a brim
Set of Z's and V's, Long Range Pimpin'
L-R P sophisticated wannabe's, up H O E's
back-polluted pussy hoochie mamas, ooh ooh

Give a damn, that 2 8 9, think I had a V8
Highly carburetor, four-barrel scram
Get gas, go in sideways, up like a philly
Ready, get that hop up away

Everybody got the and they ain't tryin' ta miss
We around the corner, nigga, there go Emmitt Smith
Webulation Bust a U-ey folker, oh as I'm out
Damn my beeper, I got dinner at the house

The rules and of the game up in the yay
Just slap a bitch, silly if she off in my way
She's to all the brothers, forgive me grandma yay
Three or four different bitches, five or six times a day

I don't no doctor, I don't need no shrink
All I is broccoli and a 40-oz to drink
that broccoli now, takes me out
Smokin' that broccoli now, me out

get sick wid it, baby
Let's get sick wid it,