Luyện nghe bài hát Duck Season

Scrape y'all
is my word, when you see us
When you see us and shining
And and adding on

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

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

Back to the novel, you Son, it's
How you figure God, what, on the track, flip the obstacle
Now my proposal 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 get you sent back
Represent the gentlemens who that
Flash medallions like Italians, la costra

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

Add on, the billboard
Check it now, you get the dick award
It's like jail, and it's the sixth
Test me, floating in the S.E., now see

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

Fake one, I'm guaranteed to you take one
Please, y'all niggaz money's low
But you come back though
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 crab? Nah let his hand
I ought to punch a in his palm with these pointy ass rings
No more said, knew chump ass was dead
I saw the four four reflecting off your shiny forehead

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

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

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

Explosive head bullets, hooded
Timberland footed ninjas, who metal jacket clips
And how to put it in you
Surrender your and your merchandise

For no purchase price, I'm a heist
For your ice and and vice
Come quietly, Clan rules society
Because of variety, so maintain your anxiety

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

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

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

delicatessens, and the world's best refreshment
But none of the above compare to the one-twenty
Or my queen and my seeds, in the home that I in
Enter my zone get blown to 99

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

Niggaz is foul and it's season
We at 'til we even motherfucker
Bad asses, high times, lower
Taste mine, straight shots in dirty

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

Picture this, watch the
These is Ol' and Dirty
sharp pins that be stabbing you
Pins and needles, and pins

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

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

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

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

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

Check out the pitch like Nolan Ryan, he a slug for lyin'
Yeah, you was lyin', the cash, cryin'
Militia, rollin' in position, Casa Blanca Cuban Christian
Lex retali' whistlin', fake fucks