Luyện nghe bài hát Broccoli

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

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

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

I said "Bitch, if you don't get up outta my face
I'ma slap you real
And I can rest assure you
That it gon' be no pretty sight"

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

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

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

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

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

Drinkin' forty ounces was how I got my figure
Then I graduated to malt liquor
So hah, let me take a swig of that Crown
What you puttin' on that blunt huh? oil

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

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

Seein' two's and
Highly while I'm slidin' on a brim
Set of Z's and V's, spit Range Pimpin'
L-R P wannabe's, stuck up H O E's
Disease-infested pussy hoochie mamas, ooh ooh

Give a damn, make 2 8 9, think I had a V8
carburetor, four-barrel engine scram
Get gas, go in sideways, figured up like a
Ready, get that motherfucker hop up

Everybody got the munchies and ain't tryin' ta miss
We ride around the corner, nigga, go Emmitt Smith
Webulation Bust a folker, oh as I'm hoppin' out
Damn that's my beeper, I got at the house

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

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

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