Luyện nghe bài hát Crazy

Yeah, SC up?
Vic

1]
Oh, so you mad
I swear these niggas is style, I'ma wipe 'em out
I ain't hearing money now unless a precise amount
Trying to my sisters both by the wrist and ice 'em out
Dress 'em up, Neiman Marcus 'em out
Never that type that you should have to think twice about
I spit that Lennox shit, the flow could knock Tyson out
Niggas can't seem to shootin' like you be after the dice come out
But I just keep shining the lights is out
black, serving out the gate across the street from where they pitch crack
Where folks throw their forks up in their wrist
music, that black fist rap
Kill 'em on the low I'm like in gift wrap, breathe
Nigga a fucking card I got cards up my sleeve
I know they doubt me cause my age if hard to believe
But get in
If niggas ain't with it yet I bet they gon' be with it
And I just 17 this June, bitch

2]
I do what I gotta
I'm cold blooded the ice in my veins
I cool in the summer, but got the hottest shit on
And spit that to body any fucking track I get on
I need that with leather seats for me to sit on
'em [?] in a superficial
Shit is a burden
Caught up on the border like I to bring a bird in
But you know I gotta get this
Sippin' Morgan with a pretty bitch up in my bed
I'm running down the list of things I'd like to do I'm dead
Money moving, I'm trying to it popping
[?] like I'm sneaker
I'm up on that cheese like a pizza topping
Feel like death is creepin' on me I hear reaper knocking
But I ain't going nigga, not without a
I'ma get this shit before I die, put that on my life
I got a couple bad in the [?] sniffing white
Dom Perignon on ice
Nigga you me