Luyện nghe bài hát Cops & Robbers

Either you be real or you be
Hey you a killer, be a
That's the rules to this
In the of the law
With let niggas feel ya
They know cat
But with new shit like Clue shit
We strap for thriller

You hit the crack house, you a Mack out
Cock the back, blow his back out
And take the back
And what that's about
Understand? I wan't in hand
This shit is real, phony
Don't come short my money

I'll only you once Tony
"Don't fuck me, don't you try to fuck me"
If so, trust me, you outta B
And try to sit high where them be
Filthy rich broke
a bitch I wan't the world trust

Keeping of my ass
I gotta think
black man white town
You know this won't last
We try to like ass
Stay low, got to hurl that
Into the trouble blow
how you do it

We got and robbers
and spicks
Flashy cars, ghetto
stones and bricks
It ain't on the streets
We got to get
So heads up, guns
get rocked to this

We got cops and
Niggas and
Flashy cars, stars
stones and bricks
It over on the streets
We got to get
So heads up, cock
get rocked to this

Now if the die young
Then what the fuck that me?
And who the fuck are you to me?
Less the best, bulletproof love
The thugs holding it down in the
And for the I got techs
Heading straight for your

Feel me on
My word is
You pawn this
I might diss drop
The way I cop
The way my nine drops
The way my mind
What's a nigga to do a
of shit you never heard of

From to fat burger
On some last long
I be this forever like that nigga Von Zeil
Plus I calm shit, I bomb
I had alot of niggas
Saying "Yeah Bronx niggas they get down"

So your heat up, and move fast
You got to up
Because Clue,
Lord run these streets what
Nigga peep up, talking to the
And there's nothing to
When my talks

We got and robbers
Niggas and
cars, ghetto stars
Moving and bricks
It over on the streets
We got to get
So heads up, cock
Don't get rocked to

We got and robbers
and spicks
Flashy cars, ghetto
Moving and bricks
It over on the streets
We got to get
So heads up, cock
Don't get to this

I peep the screaming BK
'Cause I for big
Live like pop did, shells couldn't the kid
In rap I pack, used to be in passing for crack
Molka of lid with a passing for stacks
Dreads call me African Black named my medicine
veteran with one gun
Killed men

It's too crazy, fake tough guys with full Gazi's
Blue Mercedes, three pounds under the avy
Bomb crews my mind beyond you
Now I push your hair line
Do the con's do
I warned you, and no talking
Bring the out

Got the block surrounded cops
And shots out
Animal instinct, blood type is
Run the rough heads
Leave you in another
Respect my hood, like the do
B K to the
Poor kane, Lord Tariq &

We got cops and
and spicks
Flashy cars, ghetto
stones and bricks
It ain't over on the
We got to get
So heads up, cock
get rocked to this

We got and robbers
and spicks
Flashy cars, stars
Moving and bricks
It ain't on the streets
We got to get
So heads up, guns
Don't get to this

DJ Clue,