Luyện nghe bài hát Dipset Symphony

I don't give a who's first or who's last
The Dipset is gonna this shit out at a drop of a brick, nigga
I don't care y'all say, I don't care what y'all do
But better rep Harlem until the god-damned music is through
C, let's Go

All on the honorable, who?
Dipset, back to the grill again live at the
on, all my kids ride like a carnival
Heats drawn, all you kids lie, carpet do

Get up and get ready, up? The kids ready
Now that I'm back, the is fucked, the bitch let me
You front, you stunt, you get clown
Yeah, punks up, to get beat down

Now eight years ago, I played the with dimes
in my park was getting bent off dimes
Pitchin' packs on the block, tryin' to get us some
yak, Henney, rock, puffin' nickels of reefer

I'm pumpin' on the strip, in the of the drug trade
I'm watching for the blitz in the of the drug raid
For niggas gotta eat, it's like my stomach is touching
New ryder man, for you suckers I'm fuckin' back

Now, can I it? Yes, I can
They wanna if I'm G'd up, yes, I am
Look, I over-paid my dues, I made the news
The block hot but the coke came on move

If I was a brick, you know what to do with me
You'd probably me up, get a stem, and start using me
Nobody built me, I myself and
You don't know how to shoot guns, graze yourself

I was a fiend, before I became a
It was dreams, toss for the latest
Made in cream 'cuz hey, kept the kept the powder in the tray
Way it was maybelene

I'm major stacks, major stats, hate on that
Cam, holla 'cuz I'm bring his label plaques
ain't made of plat, whoa, your jewelery ain't gold
You cop ya from Hov, they all fade to black

When I was nine old, I realized who was a roll [Unverified]
At the end I cop a Benz when I chop O's, Forty
Smokin' lye, optimoz, poppin' mo's, we shoppin' [Unverified]

is you coppin' clothes, I'll show you how to drop a rolls
Whether a phantom or a flower, I'm a killa Jaffi Joe
I'm from where they the cocky flow
While hoes puck up on my stick, you trying to hit a hockey goal

I keep a nine in my dresser, professor
Keep you under pressure, ain't a nigga
like a computer, sick shooters
You'll get finned, go to war six shooters

I bone bitches coupes and big hooters
Give head, and piff buddha, pump and sip luha
Ha you hard, you runnin' with state
My is straight shooters, cock back, and straight shoot ya

Not in my book, never nigga
I'll ask y'all niggas to go till the motherfuckin' beat
When I had the dipset right, I had Santana, Jim Jones
Hell Rell, JR Writer, 40 Cal, Un kasa, forever, nigga
Mister C signin' off, Da God