Luyện nghe bài hát Camouflage & Murder

Ay nigga, you Mac
What you doing in motherfucker

nigga what, you'll catch me in the cut
Fucking shit up for every nigga, the bigger pig the trigger
my niggaz in the river
Stories about the Mac, will make 'em

They prolly at they crib loading they
Wondering who I'ma smoke
Patrolling they set, Malcolm X
The New Jesus, pack a tre-deuce
And you can bring the drama to
If you heard about that third about

Nigga that, that fake shit we 'bout to kill that
On the for real black, I never
Be on the low, a black sto' the Mac flow
Sorta like a flo', a different plateau, the Mac show
When I attack though, I never my back 'cause
The bullets, penetrate the slow

C-Murder, man 187
Oh you in on one
Get shit, boy, you going upstate
the world, bitch

Nigga I'm C, motherfucking Murder scary
But it's very necessary to leave my buried
Crack sales bitches in lines but I'm eternal
Lethal weapons stay cocked, many may drop

From the top like flies, I you hoes
With crooked smiles, make a nigga 'nap your child
bleed, my enemies fearing attack
They move with silence, when nigga the violence

Do they know, me and my soldiers tighter than
We pass bitches and weed, my Mac planting seeds
Let the tell it, bailing making the scene
I whoop the nigga ass in jail, he was a dope

And no collect calls, pictures on the wall
You gotta crawl and fall, before you ball nigga fuck
Around the way, my feel what I'm spitting
Camouflage and Murder nigga, so pay attention, bitch

Currency, I you got currency
'Cause your bail two dollars, you understand that
You rap mother
Hold, hold, hold, up man
I got two million cash, call Stan
I'm out bitch, you heard me

you gon' do, when you get out of jail
Sketch off the scene, in a ML
4-30, Benz with four bitches inside
Who all about letting a dog and his friends

I'm too for haters
My niggaz smoke bud tote guns, picture all on paper
I'm 'bout niggaz like Big, you know who
Ceedy, Wayne, Geezy, it the whole crew

Uh, we all roll with nines and letting 'em fly
But I try to stay on the low with
Catch daddy slipping, point the 4-4 at his spine
Leave your body in the forest, where no one can

And you boys, don't none of that
I niggaz that look at jail time
Like camp holla back
Yeah, ya