Luyện nghe bài hát Clientele Kidd

(featuring Fat Joe, Ghostface & Polite)

[Intro:
Yo straight up last minute, you know what it is
Word up, yeah, yeah,
up, blip blip blap blap blap
up?

[Hook x2:
Who don't know? They know, betta let 'em know
There they go, we go

Aiyo Kidd
Layin in the crib gettin' ill money, who 8 hours get gig
Got on and 4/5ths
Attractin' niggaz I go against, the money was his
One unit of murderers, all type of Goons'll watch
Then four later they burgulars
I heard from the grapevine mine it
Elevate the name up, this gotta reign and his game went up
And now he's stronger than ever, Nike and Classics
Go against it and instant vendettas
He run things, gun down Kings, check the joint the kid in
Crib in Africa two lions
like the Prince of a jewel thief, so smack the millions
Came wrapped it up, too sweet
The game is missin' unique
I put too much to back on, I rather just sleep

[Chorus x2:
CHEF! We designin', rhymin' with
CHEF! Ice Water, it was all in the
CHEF! He gave y'all bricks on consignment
CHEF! To the death and he Billboard

Joe]
uh
Yo Don bomb harder over nearly everybody
Very you find me without the mini-shotti
Just waitin' for Rae to met he cue and
you see 100 Puerto Rican niggaz shootin'
Get down, lay down, we play around
I don't know what you but, we don't play around
It's coke, but look, but what the fuck happened?
How you leave the dope game to persue
Already knowin' that ya shit was
hard on the mic when yo' click is ass
All we to do is bring dignity to rap
And you me? I'm literally the epitome of that
Uh, we much better than y'all, the Squad
My set it when we get in the yard
Whether Marcy or Comstock, triggers cock
Straight punch in ya lung and you niggaz drop

x2]

[Ghostface
Yo yo yo him in his mouth.. (nah)
him, get the gasoline tell Terry to pull the act up
Bring him to Rae warehouse, hang him hooks then skin his ass
As lame as he look he ready to (yeah)
And he pleadin' for mercy, bleedin' from his dome and he
The week we made him eat shit!
Videotaped his wiz and I fucked his
Made him watch me on the couch fun with his kids
So what more: is it me showin' love to ya fam?
Or you in the box laid under the
Or keep you alive blow ya balls?
My murder chainsaw, ya on my Scarface walls
Not even Ajax can that, Jack
We need that maintenace man shit kill that greasy blood on contact
you off 'cause I'm pressed for time
Your man and 'em will be to die
Mothafucka!

x2]

x4]