Luyện nghe bài hát Da Ill Out

Yo Reggie, I'm out
T-ree F
Waters
Don't get it twisted,

everybody in this motherfucker will get touched
Fuck such and such, I tight like handcuffs
that ass to sleep with discrete techniques
I beez that, freak of the week I made knee deep

up, rotate around the solar, badder than cobra
Composure never sleeps, my stream folgers
I'm MC's with fried rice up in the wok
Without the MSG and chopped

See, I it, my flavor situated
From the nickel plated mic that's hot, to leave your inflated
Plus, I'm thick quakers on papers
Bodacious MC's get turned to lower

Letterin' and the medicine, I'm swallowin'
Get you hollerin', Marvin Gaye when his father shot him
In the chest, I roll two stacks of tecs
And mad niggaz and that I roll up in your rest

Mister crafted, with no 52nd ass kick
When I'm blasted, my method magics get
That you can't see with
Watchin' MC's go up and down stock brokers

I your brains on tilt, with ill skills that's milk
That's rougher jeans that Gloria Vander-bilt
I'm poppin' mad shit, I can back it
Your man'll be like, yo, get dust off yo' jacket

It ain't a test or quiz my squad can't win
Those who the biz, know we wreck kids get biz
Y'all digest stab wounds to the chest
And I copycat the rest, with no method to my madness

Plus the apparatus with the
Determined to be the man, standin' on the planet
Y'all get attached, a blood-suckin' leech
When you fall my rhythm of speech

hands get embraced with a touch of the bass
Head get wrapped up get throwin' in a neck brace
Rough mechanical, lyrical at it who?
Will ironically, chronically murder you and crew

My directive, where I live, is kinda primitive
See I get to the bottom of the problem and make shit
Step in the jam, and high, plastered the master
Cast to the masses the mic
Ten dollar rappers is L.O.D. goes after

To my squad, no matches, we bashes
Do photo flashes on all flavor
Bomb on wax, lyrical mini mac to your back
Tie you up, you in the act
A public figure, who walks around a gin of jigger
'Cause I gives a fuck about nigga, word up

Muddy waters, yo this is the way that my should go
Drunk slow funk for Reggie Noble
Fuck me doe, Mally G doe it's not logic
Playin' big shit get broke down microscopic

Freak it keep the track ringin', with the bassline
It's major when you savor my flavor, can you mine
Face the nine I your spine with short fat pace
Around and round, avoidin' the time to put it

Now's the time here yeah, clown where, pick a
Neutral or not, we give a fuck, lick a shot
Gangsta, so called killin', cap
Playalistic, I mean is all that realistic

Play your cards God, black keep hand held tight
Night fall might call life, shit is trife
On these streets after dark
gettin' sparked left and outlined in chalk

New day, this whole twisted is it man
It's me bombin' on these shitlist and Mally G
your eyes to see, recognize who be a G
Hopin' to ride in the, with E

The villain's had it ahead, word up yeah
Killin my psychosomatic mad, yeah
Y'all know, uhh, yeah, waters
We out for nine-seven, up, peace