Luyện nghe bài hát Dead Bodies

We out, P and Game, we'll blow bitch up
From the most infamous, 1st Infantry
Alchemist, this shit raw fresh beef playa
We boyz in da hood wanna see a dead

in a lowrider, murda on my mind
'Cuz I had too many dead homies in my
That's why I wit a nine and dem hollow tips
Lift niggaz like a chrome hydraulic
Wit a hood rat in the car swallow dicks
So good that I got P on 6-4 Impala shit
She from Compton like me
Caramel wit extensions like Eve

She go to a Knicks game, sit next to Spike Lee
do the right thing, blow a nigga out his Nikes
She to The Game, that's wifey
Ask get them blood stains out your white tee
P in the backseat finger her girlfriend
put a golf ball hole in your right cheek
Start trippin' over colors Ice-T
And you can watch your life away through an I.V.

We out in Cali, P and straight blow that bitch up
We out in New York, P and Game we blow bitch up
You can't us, we gettin' this money it's not bangin'
You pull that shit this way, we head bangin'
Wit dem glocks and dem
Me and my fools shoot, wutchu tryin' do that, I you do not
My chain is hot, more hot than that
That's how I murda music, that's why broads on my back

Got two birds on my shoulders, they all me
They're to fuck Game and whoever else roll wit me
My presence is strong, I have a bitch dollar
spots stare at me too long
Have you seein' that light you come at me wrong
Or any one of my dawgs, I'll be it off
You was raised on and live real drama
Don't let the coupes twist you, we O's off

We out, P and Game, we'll that bitch up
P and rollin' the Dutch
the world's most infamous, 1st Infantry
P and Game, we'll that bitch up, mixed with the A L C
N.Y.C. to L.A. we do our

We out in Compton, P and Game Chucks
We out in Q B, P and Game a Dutch
Dumpin' out the windshield
Haze got my head spinnin' like dem 24 wheels
Ridin' to Hill bangin' shook ones
On the highway, hand on the steel
If I like your chain blood spill
'Cuz I ain't getta million dollars when I signed my

Nigga I'll tie your wife to a chair and blow that up
You better fire proof your crib, I'll blow shit up
I'm all about this crime for real, this rap is luck
Try to points on me, I'll fasten you up
In smelly proof bag, real, real fast
Shoot the under my arm, I'm real, real slick
Can't put a tail on me, I too fast
Can't put tag on me, I smoke ass

If you from the westside, nigga throw shit up
If you the eastside, nigga throw that shit up
I ain't be in The Source or Double X L
I'm just tryna Trina cuz Dre said sex sells
And it was this or jail
Imagine fit birds in a Honda Accel
And caught up on the Fed Ex mail
So we stopped doin' and chirpin' on Nextels, we gangstas

I fold people in half, I tore ass
But they still ride out as long as we see death
I get money, and I need your help or friendship
But love, I'ma survive how I been
stay alive till the day I die
But now I'm healty, niggaz betta get up off my
A bitch is nuttin' we easily it
We posessed by the cash and guns we bustin'

We out, P and Game, we'll blow bitch up
Ain't nobody with
From the world's infamous, 1st Infantry
Mixed the A L C

I don't know nothing about
Who is he?