Luyện nghe bài hát Do What Playas Do

Uhh (uhh)
Wanna blow? (wanna ) pretty tone (pretty tone)
Suave (suave house) eightball (eightball) tony draper (draper)
All out (all out), (murder)
world (harlem world), problem children (problem children)
Y'all niggaz got problems (y'all got problems)
Uhh (uhh) uhh (uhh) yo (yo)

Now I can with these hoes, or spray four-fours
Whatever the situation, may for
I can sport linen, hard, court women
Have the ice, hand to all spinnin
Or I can get in, to some thug shit
robbery, slash, deal drug shit
Peel slugs quick, I'm versatile
I can ice grill, but I'm worse when I
Expert with style, y'all give hoes
All I give em, is dick and coke in they ass
Bitch, that, true playa, true dat
Niggaz catch feelings, they chick say, "who dat? "
Representin the bronx, to the dirty south
drug flows, with my dirty mouth
We got it all, grams to eightballs
we players, and refs, we make calls

Chorus: (repeat 2x)

Now everybody wanna do what a do
But everybody can't do what a do
(I see you playa) all in the mix
I see you (yeah I got my shit tight)

Bring it to I don't be slippin on my literary
Sick when I'm gone off that jane first mary
Eightball, ain't no other like this brother
Crazy motherfucker, pooh booty duster
been a point shaver or a hoe saver
Just a craver, suave house assassinator
To the dirt, and we gon' put that on the bitch
Gold in the mouth shit, straight south
Orange mound slow the flow to pull the fo'-pound
Beat a hoe down, and fall up in the to' down
I like them hoes, down to get buck for a dollar
Thick yella cinderella, hair scholar
shit, and i'ma keep it straight +space age+
Every year, turn the of life to a new page
Kick rhymes hotter than in july
Suave house til the day that I die, uhh

Sauve house motherfucker, all out
Wanna blow team nigga til I'm low motherfucker
Yo, I went o-t to o-c to all the paper
Leads to then ? the gators
If ain't about the money nigga? call me
How many niggaz talk benzes? them one
Not and picture shit, those don't count
I'm the nigga millions and, own the amount
Mr. frosty, the nigga never for chips
When the money on the line bitch I roll
Cut a bitch off for a week and let her know what she
Hundred grand worth of shit nigga glow on my
Bought a just to go with the six
When I flip for these chips, shit is never a bitch
You got nerve, I can give a kiler one word, get em
You see how many niggaz miss him
I put in the air let the shit hit em
Put the gun his mouth and let the clip kiss him
you drive all tinted, I put my honey in it
Won't, stop bank, ain't enough money in it
Live a lifestyle rarely told, what you about
Floatin down eighth, head in the rolls
You had, money like that you wouldn't be those
You barely sold, barely gold
Niggaz send it I send it back the same way it came
You dissin me until you say my name, motherfucker