Luyện nghe bài hát Do Dat

Are you a gun nigga?
(Buh-buh-buh-buh)
Are you a bitch baggin'
(Whu-whu-whu-whu)
You got ice and ya chain and ya wit your rolly on
Not just any rolly but you bought the most one
Hey take ya car to ya class E
Big be for your CD on ya DVD
For ya T.V in ya beats
In ya seat
Y'all think I'm

Runnin' round talking 'bout the shit that you talking
How you the drug game up and locked down
Gotti got life and I'm sure he never told nobody
Boy lets put on an album so the feds could buy it

You should be out them bodies you buried
Nine millimeters in tex and Dem
weapon you talking 'bout you suck in the club
You got so guns
Tell me why you rapping stead of getting
I got two verses for you
This ain't to an individual person
These here for all of ya

I can write a with out ice, bitches, and cars
Can you mutha do dat
(Do dat)
I can blaze a with out bustin' a gat at a cat
Can you mutha do dat
(Do dat)

Yoouu gonna to change up all yo shit in a little bit
When the radios in the get to pumpin' dis
And they start to finding out what rappin' really is

Yoouu gonna have to up all yo shit in a little bit
When the radios in the club get to dis
And they to finding out what what rappin' really is

Now you know what the song about
probably cussin' me out
You gonna listen to it
Lets about somebody Eskimo
Rentin' they jewelry from
And let me know
You got a platinum
But your chain is plain right
After the it gotta go back to the store
That's

Talkin' 'bout shit you don't own
Oughta be of yourself
Yo don't call that frontin' holmes?
You jigga, nigga
Nor can you like puff
And got a cash deal
So what's your big Willy talk
I get so man
Your track got me
Then you rhyming and yawn
I get

gonna have to change up all yo shit in a little bit
When the radios in the get to pumpin' dis
And they start to finding out what what really is

I can write a song out ice, bitches, and cars
Can you fuckas do dat
(Do dat)
I can blaze a track with out a gat at a cat
Can you fuckas do dat
(Do dat)

a sad situation
Record buggin' out
'Cuz they artist done ran out of shit to talk about

Yeah crazy
And you think it baby
Only thing that in yo rhyme
Was ya day

Oh that is hot
Put on the album
You it with my man
that shit
Loud and
Nigga swear he be down
Arthur lose his voice every he opens his mouth
I oughta hold up a signs and they ass right
No more sound a likes
Sounded

(Mobb deep!)
Sounded
(Jay-Z!)
Sounded
(B.I.B.!)
And we don't need no please

Yoouu gonna have to change up all yo in a little bit
When the radios in the club get to dis
And they to finding out what what rappin' really is

Yoouu gonna to change up all yo shit
(Yo shit)
Yo shit, yo
(Yo shit, yo shit)