Luyện nghe bài hát Dead Presidents II

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Presidents to me
I'm out for presidents to me
I'm out for dead fuckin' presidents to me

While spit that Wonderama shit, me and my conglomerate
Shall remain anonymous, caught up in the finest
Live out my until my heart give out
with cream, you know exactly what this shit's about
Fuck y'all Handling since a teen, I dish out
Like the point guard off your favorite team, without
My life ain't but I roll with it
My was fine 'til the dough hit it and told me that the Mo' did it
And now kosher, shit is so Hasidic
I a digit on a diamond in a minute but no bitches
Watch how I'm walking cause the thoroughest niggas be narkin'
Tryin' to a bargain hoping that they might get pardoned
Shit I'm involved with got me and needles
And my cerebral breeds the wickedest evil thoughts that sport'll feed you
Peep facts, in the game so fiends could catch ya
Freeze off my cap, can y'all believe that?
Got the city Cristals, re-up the fee
Rappers going broke, to keep up with me
My rise to riches the bitches: think harder
You this nigga, Jay-Z, Shawn Carter
G.S. the fuck up, dress the up
me shine like a Breitling, begets the fuck up
All rhymers forget it Alzheimer's
timers, I said it, I'm addressing all dramas
to me

Presidents to me
I'm out for presidents to me
I'm out for dead fuckin' presidents to me

So of niggas, "I want money like Cosby" (who wouldn't?)
This the kinda that make me think you probably ain't got no pudding
Niggas got them kinda from Jay
You in the streets, nigga, make your moves, get mill
Niggas'll coast in the SL but can't post
Niggas'll roast a L but scared to throw your toast,
I'm here to tell niggas it all swell
There's heaven, then there's niggas
One day you're cruising in your 7, next day you're sweating, your lies
Alibis matching up, bullshit catching up
Hit with the RICO, they your vehicle
Everything was all just a week ago
'Bout to start bitching ain't you? Ready to start snitching you?
forgive your weak ass; hustling just ain't you
Aside from the fast cars, honeys shake they ass at bars
You you wouldn't be involved
With the underworld dealers, of mac-millers
Coast bodiers, West Coast cap-peelers
Little niggas turn gorillas
Stopped at the station, filled up on
And now they not sane and not playing, that goes without
Slaying day in and day out with money playing, then they you out
to escape my own mind, lurking the enemy
Representing infinity with presidencies, you