Luyện nghe bài hát Do What Playas Do

Uhh (uhh)
Wanna (wanna blow? ) pretty tone (pretty tone)
Suave house (suave house) (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 play with hoes, or spray four-fours
Whatever the situation, may for
I can linen, pimp hard, court women
Have the ice, hand to all spinnin
Or I can get in, to some real thug
robbery, slash, deal drug shit
Peel slugs quick, cause I'm
I can ice grill, but I'm when I smile
Expert with style, give hoes cash
All I em, is hard dick and coke in they ass
Bitch, move that, playa, true dat
catch feelings, when they chick say, "who dat? "
Representin from the bronx, to the dirty
Spittin flows, with my dirty mouth
We got it all, grams to eightballs
we players, and refs, we make calls

Chorus: (repeat 2x)

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

Bring it to niggaz I don't be on my literary
Sick when I'm gone off that jane first mary
Eightball, ain't no like this southern brother
Crazy motherfucker, pooh butt duster
Never been a shaver or a hoe saver
Just a weed craver, suave assassinator
To the dirt, and we gon' put that on the house
Gold in the mouth shit, straight south
Orange mound slow the down 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
yella cinderella, hair shop scholar
Pimp shit, and i'ma keep it straight age+
year, turn the book of life to a new page
Kick rhymes hotter texas in july
Suave playa til the day that I die, uhh

Sauve motherfucker, all out motherfucker
Wanna blow motherfucker? nigga til I'm low motherfucker
Yo, I went o-t to o-c to all the paper
to fatigue 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 trips
Cut a bitch off for a and let her know what she miss
Hundred grand worth of nigga glow on my wrist
a range just to go with the six
When I flip for these chips, shit is never a bitch
You got some nerve, I can a kiler one word, get em
You will see how many miss him
I put in the air let the shit hit em
Put the gun his mouth and let the clip kiss him
Shit you drive all tinted, I put my in it
Won't, stop your bank, ain't enough in it
Live a rarely told, what you know about
Floatin eighth, gettin head in the rolls
You had, money like that you wouldn't be those
You barely sold, barely gold
Niggaz send it rough I it back the same way it came
You dissin me until you say my name, motherfucker