Luyện nghe bài hát Do What Playas Do

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

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

Chorus: (repeat 2x)

Now wanna do what a playa do
But everybody do what a playa do
(I see you playa) all in the mix
I see you (yeah I got my shit tight)

Bring it to niggaz I don't be slippin on my
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 point shaver or a hoe
Just a weed craver, suave house
To the dirt, and we put that on the house bitch
Gold in the mouth shit, straight south
mound slow the flow down to pull the fo'-pound
Beat a hoe down, and up in the club to' down
I like dirty hoes, down to get buck for a dollar
yella cinderella, hair shop scholar
Pimp shit, and i'ma keep it straight age+
Every year, the book of life to a new page
rhymes hotter than texas in july
Suave house playa til the day I die, uhh

Sauve motherfucker, all out motherfucker
Wanna motherfucker? team nigga til I'm low motherfucker
Yo, I went o-t to o-c to all the paper
Leads to fatigue ? the gators
If about the money nigga? call me later
How niggaz talk benzes? seen them one
Not videos and shit, those don't count
I'm the talkin millions and, own the amount
Mr. frosty, the nigga fold for chips
When the money on the line I roll trips
Cut a bitch off for a and let her know what she miss
Hundred grand worth of shit glow on my wrist
Bought a range to go with the six
When I flip for these chips, shit is over a bitch
You got some nerve, I can a kiler one word, get em
You will see how niggaz miss him
I put pellets in the air let the hit em
Put the gun inside his mouth and let the kiss him
you drive all tinted, I put my honey in it
Won't, your bank, ain't enough money in it
Live a lifestyle rarely told, what you about
down eighth, gettin head in the rolls
You had, money like that you be measurin those
You barely sold, barely gold
Niggaz send it I send it back the same way it came
You ain't me until you say my name, motherfucker