Luyện nghe bài hát Duck Season

Scrape y'all
This is my word, you see us
you see us flashing and shining
And building and on

Y'all just watch it, hear me
Only ones who we got respect for
Is them niggaz that we say to
Hear me, pay attention, put shoes on

Yo, my team be bellyaching hungry niggaz on the again
Pirahna niggaz dick, yo Son, it's on again
up, he made a move, try to assist it
Listen kid yo, you was to be a pawn but I'm a bishop

Back to the novel, you Son, logical
How you figure God, what, flow on the track, the obstacle
Now my rips the global
From California to courts, over God so, taste the soul food

baggy jeans, the Timberlands in November
Shorty called me in December
But guess what, my Wally's got up
Autograph pressed up what, enough to blow your rest up

We scrape that, O' Lake that
My dolo rapper get you sent
Represent the who bent that
Flash medallions like Italians, la costra

We movin' through hood like we supposed ta, flexin'
Lex and Diamonds hold the
So the bust the gun Boo
that bad ass bitch in Dead Presidents

Add on, the sloan
Check it now, you get the gold award
It's jail, and it's the sixth floor
me, floating in the S.E., now let's see

Half of y'all niggaz built your vine my stress tree
Faggots, homos, yo, my liver than a dobo
Stay militant kid, twist ya like
You idiot, playing with my Clan but you be fearin' it

one, I'm guaranteed to make you take one
Please, y'all money's gettin' low
But could you come back
Set up shop, and get the fat

of y'all, mostly inspired by y'all
So what the deal now, link up us, or put your shield down
Faggot, you around punk
We for cream nigga

You want a pound Nah let his hand swing
I ought to punch a hole in his with these pointy ass rings
No said, knew your chump ass was dead
When I saw the four reflecting off your shiny forehead

It's Wu-Tang nigga, ain't nuttin' nigga
Still shame on a nigga, who to run game
version of perversion, fuckin' bitches on Persian rugs
Washin' niggaz detergent, it's the surgeon

Slugs propels from Steele's 12 gauge
Front page, "Daily Chronicle"
"Hell up in Gotham, heed and protect yo' seeds"
You fall like leaves, you lack tranquility

In your rap utilities, to fuck the abilities
Race like a sperm to the ovary
Microphone post tone a rotary phone
Ancient poems and poetry, old

head bullets, black hooded
Timberland footed ninjas, who full metal jacket
And how to put it in you
Surrender your goods and your

For no purchase price, I'm certainly a
For your ice and curtains and
Come quietly, Clan rules society
of variety, so maintain your high anxiety

And lead them to defy me, diary, ya
I need 18 for my next joint, this high annointed king
To make a deal, I be the one to
Steve Rifkind have been sniffin'

To catch somethin' so dope, it left Monica Lynch drippin'
I hundreds of bitches, and split millions of dollars
And built with of scholars
My life saga from the hill to the

Legal kid brown in
Gave birth to MC's, thieves and robbers
We drove expensive and took worldwide trips
And my dick's been sucked by the lips

Fancy delicatessens, and the best refreshment
But none of the above compare to the one-twenty
Or my and my seeds, in the home that I rest in
my zone get blown to 99 sections

This has no limitations, this time there's no hesitation
minds at the door, you want it niggaz it's yours
The flavors raw, what the fuck you think I'm for
It's rhyme and reason, bite the

Niggaz is and it's duck season
We at 'til we even motherfucker
Bad asses, times, lower classes
Taste mine, straight in dirty glasses

Bring it to him, room service, pressure
And mad nervy, guns at the clergy
Ticallion, we worried
Keep them sick seven-thirty

Picture this, watch the
bastards is Ol' and Dirty
With sharp pins that be you
and needles, needles and pins

'Nuff said, dick in your mouth like Tempest
As I track with thoroughbreds, duckin' the feds

Yo, my ice look fly up on the son
Niggaz ran up on me law, praising we do by the lords
That's right, exile the fake, hit niggaz like weight
'em food, let the fake evaporate

Reconstruction, that's the science on my, production
Y'all niggas guess who son, left his nuts hungs
Switch, finger itch, at you like a bitch
Maybe y'all snitched

Youse a loner, Adidas shell top I
Sip a Corona, read the Robb Report, bone her
Buy you some jewels, here's food
Not mean to be rude boo, check out the analoo

We in the mushrooms, chased the neck in the custom
jeans, thick ropes God, sliding through customs
Chill, y'all niggaz know time it is
Bond Beamers behind me on Bacardi Limon

Check out the pitch like Nolan Ryan, he caught a for lyin'
Yeah, you was lyin', where's the cash,
Militia, rollin' in position, Casa Blanca Link Christian
Lex retali' back whistlin', fucks