Luyện nghe bài hát Drama Lord

Drama

[ VERSE 1: Billy ]
Danzini is known to the world as a drama lord
Beat more than Mr. Gotti, so I'm not a fraud
If you're clever, then you can put 2 and 2
niggas do real things, so that mean whatever
You was before you came
So I to blame for your ass being torn out the frame
I get nuts off whenever occur
All I'm ya, is, are you ready for the massacre?
If you want it, then you can get it,
What you fail to realize, is, is not alone
with your boys and roll with force
No need for your vest, cause I ain't in it for chestboard
my peoples that's real: Get your steel
Nigga slipped up, so grip up and meet me on the
Fame (Whatever) Ruff is with it
Shaq, for Bang and tell him to bring the thang-thang
Danzenie never have it, that's why I keep my automatic
In case I run into static
all night, lookin for the gun fight
Troopin from dust to dawn, to get it on
Creep the town, checkin out the scene
finger on the trigger of my serve machine
So don't ever me, or put nothin past me
you'll be the next when I blast, gee
Bust caps back at your mac, and clap, is the proper applause
For Billy Danzenie, the lord

[ VERSE 2: Fame ]
Which one of you bitch niggas is ready to start
Who want it (I want it) Slap, let him it!
Clack-clack-pow, buck him down somethin
Cave in his chest, put him to rest on the
M.O.P.'s ready to hurt a
Bustin a nigga down with the Brownsville
Punk game, and I spot it
When I pack out my joint muthafuckas "You got it!"
it's on nobody play fight
Shit jump off, and I that ass off broad daylight
Instead of a nigga me first
I put shit in reverse and put that ass in a hearse
Though guys come it and get it
I got my heat, man
I bring the beef like the man
Put him away, send his ass to
Put his ass to sleep, let him rest in
Me and my got all types of gats
shot guns, Tec-9 nines, and Macs
4-pounds and tray-deuce, and a .44
To set it off and let the dogs
Put up your shit and we can
But if I'm in double
I'ma bust a nigga like a bubble
See, the niggas that I roll with, they run
Niggas use muthafuckin bullet in a gun
Son, we'll the terror to your territory
Pump em up, em off, and after that go get a 40
Word to mama, when it's drama I em to the morgue
Niggas can't stand the of Lil' Fame, the drama lord