Luyện nghe bài hát Duck Season

Scrape motherfuckers
This is my word, you see us
you see us flashing and shining
And and adding on

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

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

to the novel, you Son, it's logical
How you figure God, what, flow on the track, flip the
Now my proposal rips the
From California to courts, it's God so, taste the soul food

Remember jeans, the Timberlands in November
Shorty me Santa in December
But guess what, my got messed up
Autograph pressed up what, blessed to blow your rest up

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

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

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

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

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

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

You want a pound crab? Nah let his hand
I ought to punch a hole in his palm with these pointy ass
No more said, knew your 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
Your version of perversion, fuckin' bitches on Persian
Washin' niggaz detergent, it's the surgeon

Slugs from Bobby 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 with the abilities
Race like a sperm cell to the
Microphone post tone like a phone
poems and poetry, old sloans

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

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

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

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

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

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

This rhyme has no limitations, this time there's no
Collecting at the door, you want it niggaz it's yours
The flavors raw, what the fuck you I'm flowing 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
mine, straight shots in dirty glasses

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

this, watch the birdy
These bastards is Ol' and
With 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 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, the whole science on my, production
Y'all niggas guess who stuck son, left his nuts
Switch, finger itch, at you like a bitch
y'all niggaz snitched

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

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

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