Luyện nghe bài hát Crybaby

I was born in 71' in City, MO
my was a heavenly one, so the fam was pretty slow
it came to rap and R&B and plenty more
check it, if it wasn't on gospel,
or in the Bible, then it go
So they tell the baby don't do something then I end up doing it anyway
like, don't listen to rap, it's the evil of today
but, I really fell in 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
Some say that rap is dead, but I get the white, black, and red
and jump on the tour bus, do 58 shows, then I'm with a big black sack of bread
Can't believe that was said, cause I'm here with a stack of fed
and I got it rap/hip-hop or whatever and I did not have to beg
So, here I stand, the mic in with my rap attire
and I like my spending grands cause we got the fire
I merchandise 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 rapper's sounding
WAH WAH WAH (Crybaby)
When I see them on the TV, rapper's sounding like
WAH WAH WAH (Whatcha bout?)

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

I hear em talkin, they mad at and Souljah Boy
They hating big in the magazine, and even 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
ya need to know is that, in the world there's a lot of dough to stack
And the ones that hold us back ain't been outside they cul-de-sac
Every nigga I know is strapped, rip shows blow ya back
But notice that, I can put it right to where the shoulders at
Hating on the south? Why? Trippin off them chips got
You don't like it's screwed and chopped
but you wanna get off in pot
Wanna be MC you a lot, up in the spot and you hot
Cause they be poking out
What the hell is you bout?
Everybody wanna be killa but not for
bout the method of making money you get the milla
by doin it like I do it do the work and in it
when you do it to the fullest aint no achieving it
When I was broke, homie I went for
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)
When I see them on the TV, them rapper's like
WAH WAH WAH (Whatcha bout?)

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

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