Luyện nghe bài hát Crybaby

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

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

If negative, I don't wanna hear it
eliminating player haters with evil spirits

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

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

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

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