Luyện nghe bài hát Do What Playas Do

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

Now I can play these hoes, or spray four-fours
the situation, may call for
I can sport linen, pimp hard, court
the ice, hand to waves all spinnin
Or I can get in, to some thug shit
Armed robbery, slash, deal shit
Peel quick, cause I'm versatile
I can ice grill, but I'm worse I smile
with style, y'all give hoes cash
All I em, is hard dick and coke in they ass
Bitch, move that, true playa, dat
Niggaz catch feelings, when chick say, "who dat? "
Representin the bronx, to the dirty south
Spittin drug flows, 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 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
when I'm gone off that jane first name mary
Eightball, ain't no other like this southern
Crazy motherfucker, pooh booty duster
Never been a shaver or a hoe saver
Just a weed craver, suave house
To the dirt, and we gon' put that on the bitch
in the mouth shit, straight south shit
Orange mound 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
Thick yella cinderella, hair shop
Pimp shit, and i'ma it straight +space age+
Every year, turn the book of 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 motherfucker? team til I'm low motherfucker
Yo, I went from o-t to o-c to all the
to fatigue then ? the gators
If ain't about the money call me later
How many niggaz benzes? seen them one
Not videos and picture shit, those count
I'm the talkin millions and, own the amount
Mr. frosty, the nigga never fold for
the money on the line bitch I roll trips
Cut a bitch off for a week and let her know she miss
Hundred grand worth of shit nigga on my wrist
Bought a range to go with the six
I flip for these chips, shit is never over a bitch
You got some nerve, I can give a 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
you drive all tinted, I put my honey in it
Won't, stop your bank, ain't enough in it
a lifestyle rarely told, what you know about
Floatin down eighth, gettin head in the
You had, money that you wouldn't be measurin those
You motherfuckin barely sold, barely
Niggaz send it rough I send it back the same way it
You ain't dissin me you say my name, motherfucker