Luyện nghe bài hát Do What Playas Do

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

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

eightball (repeat 2x)

Now everybody wanna do what a 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 on my literary
Sick when I'm gone off that jane first name
Eightball, ain't no other this southern brother
Crazy motherfucker, pooh butt duster
Never been a point or a hoe saver
Just a weed craver, suave house
To the dirt, and we gon' put that on the bitch
Gold in the mouth shit, straight south
Orange mound the flow down to pull the fo'-pound
a hoe down, and fall 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 +space age+
Every year, turn the book of life to a new
Kick rhymes than texas in july
Suave playa til the day that I die, uhh

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