Luyện nghe bài hát Crybaby

I was born in 71' in City, MO
my was a heavenly one, so the fam was pretty slow
when it came to rap and R&B and more
it, if it wasn't on gospel, apostle
or in the Bible, then it go
So when they tell the baby don't do something then I end up it anyway
like, listen to rap, it's the evil music of today
but, I really fell in love with the sound that was coming out form the East
So we got it and twisted it up a bit, now the industry's a heatstroke
say that rap is dead, but when I get the white, black, and red
and jump on the tour bus, do 58 shows, then I'm back with a big black sack of
Can't believe that that was said, cause I'm here a stack of fed
and I got it from rap/hip-hop or and I did not have to beg
So, here I stand, the mic in hand my rap attire
and I like my fans spending cause we got the fire
I like 5 G's every half an hour
and you cry like a baby so your mic must be pacifier

When I the magazine, them rapper's sounding like
WAH WAH WAH (Crybaby)
I see them on the TV, them rapper's sounding like
WAH WAH WAH (Whatcha bout?)

If it's negative, I don't hear it
eliminating haters with their evil spirits

I em talkin, they mad at Smurf and Souljah Boy
They hating big in the magazine, and even know the boys
I the ploy, washed up rappers wanna attack people
Run up to the car, out the mac lethal
Man that's a problem the black people now
What ya need to know is that, in the world there's a lot of to stack
And the ones that wanna hold us ain't been outside they cul-de-sac
Every nigga I know is strapped, rip shows that'll blow ya
But that, I can put it right down to where the shoulders at
Hating on the south? Trippin off them chips they got
You like that it's screwed and chopped
but you get off in they pot
Wanna be MC you a lot, up in the spot and you hot
they 84's be poking out
What the hell is you bout?
wanna be killa but not for reala
bout the of making money you gotta get the milla
by doin it I do it do the work and believe in it
you do it to the fullest aint no problem achieving it
When I was broke, I went for mills
Got on the mic with the intent to
Stronger ever, and you a gimp for real
I drink caribou lou, and you drink enfamil

When I the magazine, them rapper's sounding like
WAH WAH WAH (Crybaby)
I see them on the TV, them rapper's sounding like
WAH WAH WAH (Whatcha bout?)

You should be clapping when folk make it up the ghetto
or trailer park, it matter even if he black or if he guerro
but, you don't how to be male
of a Timberland, you probably in a stilletto
better yet in a shoe, jealous or maybe you
of me cause I'm making dinero
and you dont get clapped at
you want a standing I thought not!
you say you better than rappers on radio, man false chop
try to run up on me, cause a benzo never be in your car slot
try to step up on the scene, my infra-red beam's right at soft spot
if you was on TV and balling you wouldn't groan and
keep hatred, envy, and bloodshed on his lip
Tech got long with chrome things on his whip
?? a chrome thing on his hip
but know your hip will not stop the hop
when you look at the big picture, my block pops alot daily
so keep on thinking my clock the shots
and I can bury you in your Osh Kosh B'Gosh, baby

When I the magazine, them rapper's sounding like
WAH WAH WAH (Crybaby)
When I see on the TV, them rapper's sounding like
WAH WAH WAH (Whatcha bout?)