Luyện nghe bài hát Dollaz + Sense

Now let's get down to business,
'Cause it seems like y'all just keep on tryin' to this
Nigga that you know that's been for years
I've clowned for years, and y'all could fade my peers
One two three four five six seven nine, ten, you can't win
'Cause all the way nigga I gets respect
And youse a nigga that even get no props in your set
Park you say huh

Wanna be rippin', but now it's to do some set trippin'
So listen close, 'cause I don't y'all to miss
That I'm bout to it down for this bitch, check it
Acacia, Poplar Spruce Cedar Elm
West trees sprayin' all the fleas
that's from the three and four hundred P-Funk riders
So niggaz watch yo' ass at that center
Now Aaron Tyler, tell my why you so tame

When I caught you at the airport, like a crap game
You looked up and you my niggaz comin
And you looked like your bitch ass was 'bout to start
But all I wanted to do was a little conversation
And see if we can fix little situation
But I fuck you up was what you wondered
Yeah, that's probably why you changed your little pager
But bitches like you don't

You can't look me in my eye, let alone go toe to toe
And callin' me skinny, a clown
I'ma you Theo, 'cause you weigh ninety-two point three pounds
Wack ass actor, movie killer
Fool don't you know, is still the nigga
Compton psycho, boy you oughta
Your records don't hit, and bitches don't jock your
You need to stay you Compton clown

And get off of the nuts of the niggaz guts
I'm down with the Trees, I'm down with Death Row
I'm down with Tone, and I'm down with the fo'
So we cross paths and I hope that's soon
I'ma boot your ass to the moon
You need to quit bangin' under false
'Cause if don't make dollars, it don't make

If it make dollars, it don't make sense
So don't game, let the pimpin' commence
If it make dollars, it don't make sense
So don't game, let the people, commence
If it don't dollars, it don't make sense
So kill game, let the pimpin' commence
If it don't make dollars, it don't sense
Because you gotta give it up to the crown

Now I'ma swing it to the right and, into the left hand
Take a deep breath and, it like a chef and
is dedicated to the C-P-T
No better yet T-T-P, or the that look up to me
I make it my business, to be that true
And I can come clever well that's my endeavor
So or not you understand, that there's only one DJ Q-U-I-K
With no C still you be me
Because I'm floatin' in my Lex and, fat checks and
Gettin mad sex while I the NSX and

Doin' I wanna, and youse a goner nigga
For that you can catch me slippin' on a street corner
Remember in the house, and Quik is in the hood
Sippin' yak all my niggaz 'cause it's tooted good
So don't knock it till you try it, 'cause he tried to knock it
But still walkin' round with my nuts in his pocket
So put tha P in it and sip that Miller
And for those of y'all concerned, is still Eiht Killa
Let me take a load off my scrotum little
If it don't dollars nigga, you know the rest

If it don't make dollars, it don't sense
So don't kill game, let the pimpin'
If it don't make dollars, it don't make
So don't game, let the people, commence
If it don't make dollars, it don't sense
So kill game, let the pimpin' commence
If it don't make dollars, it don't sense
you gotta give it up to the crown prince

Now I done my fuckin' soul to the shit that I kick
While you groupie ass niggaz keep on ridin' the
You oughta know that DJ Quik ain't your
Everyday motherfucker, slick like a 'cause I stuck ya
Now, I never had my dick by a man befo'
But you gon' be the first you little ass hoe
Then you can tell me how it taste
But I nut I shoot some piss in your face
You fuckin' coward, like a nervous wreck

'Cause when I caught your ass, you put in check
And when you left my presence, you expedient
You ain't no fuckin' killer, a comedian, beyotch
Tell me why you act so
Givin' your set a bad name wit your misspelled
E-I-H-T, now I continue
Yeah you left out the G the G ain't in you
Remember that time you was rollin' on the side
And a little brown bucket up on your side

Caught at that light in your Camry in the of a
Real killer, tell me did you feel a nervous
You was in the shadow of with two trey-five-sevens
Pointed at your chest whatchu gon' do, where was
Niggaz kill at you ain't got no killers so kill dat
Holdin' up your hands and for a pass
You lucky they didn't to get to dumpin' on yo' ass
this game you think is funny is some real shit
So you need to be careful who you fuckin' wit, beyotch!

If it don't make dollars, it don't sense
So don't kill game, let the pimpin'
If it don't dollars, it don't make sense
I'm through playin' your punk ass
If it don't make dollars, it don't make
So don't kill game, let the commence
If it make dollars, it don't make sense
Because you gotta it up to the crown prince

Shouts goes out, to my well known dog
What's up Dozun Tru, don't understand it baby
They can't fade us out here on these streets
It's bigger than can imagine to the whole entire
Death Row both sides, whassup niggaz
And my nigga Big Suge, known for keepin' shit

To my nigga Big J, my little Hi-C, little straight G
And that little singin' ass Danny Boy
Y'all don't understand, can't fade this
I'm the first that was "Bangin' on Wax"
Yeah if you remember, nineteen underground tapes
And it stop, and it won't stop