Luyện nghe bài hát Duck Season

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

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

Yo, my team be hungry niggaz on the swarm 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 proposal rips the
California to courts, it's over God so, taste the soul food

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

We scrape that, Land O' that
My rapper get you sent back
the gentlemens who bent that
Flash like Italians, la costra nostra

We through your hood like we supposed ta, flexin'
Lex and Diamonds the settlement
So keep the the gun Boo
that 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 floor
Test me, in the S.E., now let's see

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

Fake one, I'm guaranteed to 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 with us, or put your down
Faggot, you around punk
We battle for nigga

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

It's nigga, ain't nuttin' changed nigga
Still shame on a nigga, who to run game
Your version of perversion, fuckin' on Persian rugs
Washin' niggaz like detergent, the surgeon

Slugs propels from Bobby 12 gauge
page, "Daily Chronicle" reads
"Hell up in Gotham, take and protect yo' seeds"
You fall like autumn leaves, you tranquility

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

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

For no purchase price, I'm a heist
For your ice and curtains and
quietly, Wu-Tang Clan rules society
Because of variety, so maintain your high

And them to defy me, diary, ya Irie?
I need 18 points for my next joint, this high king
To a deal, I be the one to appoint
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 with thousands of scholars
My life saga from the hill to the

Legal kid in Nicaragua
birth to MC's, thieves and bank robbers
We drove expensive whips and worldwide trips
And my dick's sucked 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

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

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

Bring it to him, service, under pressure
And mad nervy, wavin' guns at the
Ticallion, we worried
Keep them niggaz seven-thirty

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

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

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

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

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

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

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