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 plenty
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 music of
but, I really fell in love with the sound that was out form the East Coast
So we got it and twisted it up a bit, now the industry's having a
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 was said, cause I'm here with 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 with my rap attire
and I like my fans 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 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?)

If it's negative, I wanna hear it
eliminating player haters their evil spirits

I hear em talkin, they mad at and Souljah Boy
They big in the magazine, and dont even know the boys
I know the ploy, up rappers wanna attack people
Run up to the car, out the mac lethal
Man that's a problem with the people now
ya need to know is that, in the world there's a lot of dough to stack
And the ones that wanna us back ain't been outside they cul-de-sac
Every nigga I know is strapped, rip that'll blow ya back
But notice that, I can put it right to where the shoulders at
Hating on the Why? 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 cryin
wanna be killa but not for reala
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
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, 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 folk make it up outta the ghetto
or trailer park, it don't even if he black or if he guerro
but, you don't know how to be
instead of a Timberland, you probably in a
better yet in a baby shoe, or maybe you
of me cause I'm making dinero
and you dont wanna get at
you want a standing ovation? I not!
you say you than rappers on radio, man that's false 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 groan and trip
he'd keep hatred, envy, and on his lip
Tech got long cream with chrome on his whip
?? a chrome thing on his hip
but just know your hip not stop the hop
cause when you look at the big picture, my block alot daily
so keep on thinking my stops the shots
and I can quickly bury you in your Osh B'Gosh, baby

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