Luyện nghe bài hát Duck Season

Scrape motherfuckers
is my word, when you see us
When you see us and shining
And building and on

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

Yo, my team be bellyaching hungry 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 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 rips the global
From to courts, it's over God so, taste the soul food

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

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

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

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

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

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

Tired of y'all, mostly inspired by
So the deal now, link up with us, or put your shield down
Faggot, you fuck punk
We battle for nigga

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

Wu-Tang nigga, ain't nuttin' changed nigga
Still shame on a nigga, who tried to run
version 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, heed and protect yo' seeds"
You fall like autumn leaves, you tranquility

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

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

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

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

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

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

Fancy delicatessens, and the world's refreshment
But none of the compare to the one-twenty lessons
Or my queen and my seeds, in the that I rest in
Enter my get blown to 99 sections

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

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

Bring it to him, service, under pressure
And mad nervy, wavin' guns at the
Ticallion, we ain't
Keep them sick niggaz

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

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

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

Reconstruction, the whole science on my, production
niggas guess who stuck son, left his nuts hungs
Switch, finger itch, starin at you a bitch
Maybe y'all snitched

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

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

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