Luyện nghe bài hát Dead The Funeral

'For leaf big blowgun, fag nigga's bitch, an'
Peach chrome, sick Rover, Zeke so bend over
He looked at me and said "Killa be your kitchen pitcher, the bing was rough"
I said I did the bid wit' ya
Capiche, not Mona Lisa it's the big
Six scriptures, six blickers, grip triggers, strip
The Big Dipper, liquor, big liver
Now you home watch the shit differ, I dig nigga
Soon as a nigga whisper, we jiggin' Jigga
He Brand in a barber chair, he'll get the Clippers
I care who you are, the point, don't be stupid pa
We celebrities with guns, stars
Yeah remove ya bras, a few of ours in through-in
Spray 21, Blackjack, I knew ya
Kid roll, Peter like Kennedy
with me at the graveyard, visits from old enemies
Some bitched, some snitched, some owed us
Piss on the tombstone, on it, "Told you so"
Check my portfolio, I was poor then rose to
KNow what I'm in a drought I score, overflow
I'm the waterboy, wet work for call
The is nice, TLC, some waterfalls
Fiends snort it all, this I report to y'all
Go inside, extort them all, from short to tall you ball
And where the ballas live and all my all to win
This the second time around, shit you call again
Damn yo' lady fine, you been on yo' baby
Me I'm 86, highest temp,
Everyday we shine, fine, pay me mind
My watches are retarded, you can 'em crazy times
Mines are more than
We rock til the Range, Benz, and Porsches clutter
Garage, assorted
Yeah Crayola box, for that, doc
I'll lay you over a stroller with the odor ock
Is it not, huh, we immune to you
We shoot the up, striaght up and dead the funeral

Ay yo the fuck up
I said we gon' shoot the up and dead the fu--
You dead already we gon' dead the
Matter fact son, that shit back up, fuck it

And you Rell, I do worst than foul
They Roberta, lawyer murdered murder trials
We deserve to style, on Persian tile
On the island millions, Durst to Al
I get cake in layers, not the Daily
But I flip, I make the papers, hate the mayor
I'm a gangsta, I ma, go date a player
Man these are fish market, straight fillet ya
Went to war with Kromo, Pataki
Then Guilliani, then I to North Cackalacky
What you gon' tell a mobster, cake was proper
No Pablo when I saw them helicopters
the letter niggaz, trinckets from the ghetto bird
Her word said I the whole ghetto birds
Man your go find it, need a new assignment
That ain't giving out, of all that's call for silent
to play
You got no gunwounds, jail time, felonies, shit on your resume
I get you yay, not tomorrow, yesterday
If they ask, never say, and we never play, ay