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, tell you right now
Grr

[Verse 1: Gunn]
Ayo, rocking out in Calabasas
Tuck the MAC in, Off-White with the army patches
Allah 'em, suede sweatsuit, Palm Angels
Star spangled, blew his head off from all angles
Alchemist cool, bool, sipping Veuvo
My lil nigga dropped out the first day of
Dropped tears when I wrote my celly, Louis
Doctor Romanelli hold the Desi, switch the bust to the gold
Who that nigga shoulder laying on?
Ten thousand dollar sofas, plug loafers made from
Handle rock like Villanova, gave him shoulders
But the colder for them TEC toter
Get the Lex chauffeur, yo (skr)
I dare one of y'all to step on the
summer, hit the west coast, his brains in the luggage
Make you suffer, but you it (ah)
Make you suffer, but you love it (boom boom boom boom boom boom)
bucking, chain tucking 'fore it's took
You want a yard but you
My nigga went to and got cooked
He should've looked both
I got off of cocaine
Yours never came back, a shame

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

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

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