Luyện nghe bài hát Buckshot

I to work at Subway
Seven bucks an hour wasn't money
But I be rapping and kicking it on my lunch
Like "I'mma it out this motherfucker one day"
I was in the back, back of the bus before a bluetooth
Got the boombox and a blunt, deuce-deuce
H on my crew, we get drunk, a little
Type of who square up and knock a tooth loose
to the basement, the, the, the basement
That is the window I'm to vacate with
Pops put on bars just in somebody breaks in
That's not gonna stop me from getting to the
Shh, meeting at the bus stop
I got the bigger roll, paranoid buck
And all my known for grunge, flannel, puck rock
And a of Sub Pop, I was on that Buckshot

to window and wall to wall
Can of Krylon, we out to
(Buckshot)
Four in the morning I'm with the
There we go, we go, there we go, there we go
Window to window and wall to
Can of Krylon, we out to
Four in the morning I'm with the
we go, there we go, there we go, there we go

Just that new Boot Camp tape
The neighbors keep complaining too much bass
Bang, bang, let me do my
Give me two and you gon' know my name
You don't want to get
You know I be on these overpasses bridges, dog
You I be dippin' through these alleys tryna diss the law
Sixteen Adidas on
I'm too speedy for police I'm through these streets, I'm gone
I got game, don't need to talk
Boppity-bo, tippity-toppity, I pop me some
I was underground he came from and he pop out a hole
Cracked the top back on the flat black
I up in the morning and I had a vision
These suit and ties got the nerve to call it
They mad, say my art is really bad for business
But I'mma paint a better world until the are empty
Now let it drip, let it
If they me doing dirt I'll plead the fifth
I pop a top, I brought my
Speakers bumpin', I was on that

to window and wall to wall
Can of Krylon, we out to
(Buckshot)
Four in the morning I'm with the
There we go, we go, there we go, there we go

with the crew
Just writing my name in graffiti on the
is he?
(Yeah, knowledge supreme)
Got the world the

up the CD or turn up the TV
Turn up your T-A-P-E, turn phone up, crank up the PC
See, my boys are really PC if you're talking
See, we call it aerosol art we splatter the city
I got twenty five cans in my
out the whick-whack
TIOS's even get that
Fat and black books, yo, we rep that
149th street bench is we slept at
Clep-clap, clep-clap, clep-clap,
Those are not my words, the can said that
them reds at, or them green turquoise?
Where my real graf writers? Make some

Chill-chill-chilin' with the
Just my name in graffiti on the wall
is he?
(Macklemore)
Got the world the
(Buckshot, shot, shot, shot)