Luyện nghe bài hát Brossface Brippler

[Intro: ? & Westside
It stop for him
on
Grr, ayo
'Cause he don't want you to know that you can on the water
Well, I'ma tell you now
Grr

[Verse 1: Westside
Ayo, rocking Calabasas out in
Tuck the MAC in, fatigue with the army patches
Allah save 'em, suede sweatsuit, Angels
Star spangled, Draco blew his head off from all
cool, hoodies bool, sipping Veuvo
My lil nigga out the first day of school
tears when I wrote my celly, Louis slides
Doctor Romanelli hold the Desi, switch the bust to the gold
Who that nigga usually shoulder on?
Ten dollar sofas, plug loafers made from cobra
Handle rock like Villanova, him cold shoulders
But the neck colder for them TEC
Get the Lex chauffeur, yo (skr)
I dare one of y'all to step on the
Plain summer, hit the coast, his brains in the luggage
you suffer, but you love it (ah)
Make you suffer, but you it (boom boom boom boom boom boom boom)
Wayne bucking, chain tucking 'fore took
You want a yard but you
My nigga went to and got cooked
He looked both ways
I got off of cocaine
Yours never came back, what a

[Verse 2:
Yo, ay, look, my dog'll your throat for a brick of coke
He walked in the credit union, he slipped a note
A new Ferrari, price, that's what my kitchen grossed
Illegal business, my scale off balance, and my blender
Griselda on another run, and that's facts
And y'all put guns in hands of niggas you ain't gon' clap
I got the .38 on strap Raiders black
We pistols, did missions, then traded back
in the era, in the '80s with the smokers
Hit the corner and they cop a baby in the stroller
Saw my on drugs, that's what made me whip the soda
If I don't answer for the plug, gon' make him miss his quota
Uh huh, it's crazy, we up from doing all this evil
Sold dope so much cut that it clogged they needles
And real, for this long, gon' be hard to equal
This for the hustlers who got on and fed all they
My niggas stand up, my shoot straight
Crime do pay, these Nike boxes not for shoe
Y'all got due dates, for one charge, did time in two
I put pictures of my kids up, toothpaste, uh
This gon' be a heartbreaker, and I stand by it
Can flying, blowing at your head like a dryer
East side nigga, my whole full of Scarfaces
Guns in guitar cases, blood on a apron

3: Busta Rhymes]
I cut coke like I'm beats, they call me Mr. Walt, bae
Master, the chef, I'm cooking coke, they call me Bae
Bitches'll bag my while I fuck 'em in a short stay
Niggas'll 'bout flipping coke while I somersault the yay
Your coke good, but you a worker is what you're to say
At a hookah lounge with a serving coke, now sniff it off the tray
While I celebrate a birth evening, pop the bottle cork and spray
Pipe your bitch 'til she sleeping, show my bread, you'll be to pay
Cocked, now I'm off the K, developer
Molding and the predator
Better off the despite how kneeling they often pray
It's like I'm still bagging crack Fredrico
accidentally split your finger
Blood mixed up all in the perico,
Sorry for all of you niggas that became victims while we your bread over mojitos
Fabulous imported fabrics even I'm in my street clothes
This motherfucker distribute
Like I'm spreading it on toast
So much bread the money bag up, we getting it in each loaf

Because he don't want you to know that you can on the water
Well, tell you right now