Luyện nghe bài hát Dusted 'n' Disgusted

I'm not all that sure
'Bout things is finna mature
So let me me a nigga with a grip
And hit his ass quick with one of them
(What's the of a lick?)
a niggaz shit
(Hey, put on sumthin')
I put that on the click, the

Back to fuckin' one of the homies jus' got dusted
Time to do dirt, uh!, I never trusted
bustas shot him in the shirt, dead on arrival
Now the town is funky, called survival
What y'all wanna do? They got us
(Bullet high, get in eye)
If this was a fifth I be drunk
I'm heated, them niggaz cheated, played me
We had a meetin', shit 'posed to squashed

I know this one bitch double dribble and set 'em up y'all
She likes the monies in the middle, play tether
Thick ass bitch, high city-slicker
Scarecrow southern bitches, aka posies pussyfictious

Nigga been holdin' guts, but shit on his self and a funky
out bills, frontin' on material shit
That's when I get to killin'
(Killin' shit)
And settin' I'm up and I'm catchin' a couple of slugs
Sl-uh sl-uh slugs, fuck with savage thug

Pistol pop in they ass, see niggaz be gettin' this
It's that bitch killed ya
all your money peeled ya
Seven bust in the room with AK's
While a be puttin' on his jimmy
All of a sudden they shoot up Vuitton
you can hit the broccoli

See that nigga, that nigga didn't make that money
Left them jacked up, and the bitch she macked him
He's a busta, punk ass nigga, know the streets
That's why that nigga naked layin' dead in some bloody sheets
It's just a part of the game he feel
Bitches will kill, fuck a nigga, out his last d-uh bill
You don't know that hoe main that bitch be trusted
and di-motherfuckin'-sgusted

It's some hearted shit
(Back to fuckin work, one of the homies got dusted)
Whacha'll do, whacha'll wanna do
Cold bitches
(Back to fuckin work, one of the jus' got dusted)
Whacha'll wanna do, I never trusted bustas

Some cold hearted
(Back to fuckin' work, one of the homies got dusted)
I never them bustas
And it's them cold niggas
(Back to fuckin' work, one of the homies got dusted)
'n' disgusted

Let's let of some 203's on the other of t-uh-town
Draw the attention on the s-uh-side of town
(Other of town)
And wait for the po-po shift to change, shootin' range
on the r-uh-rebound, war games
Droughts, ouch, lost clientele but I will
By sellin' the broccoli dank of the crack cocaine
Try not to steal
When these punk and bitches be the reason why
The smoke be comin' up out the chow, with my Pac

Dear God, can you forgive me? My lookin' sick
I'm in my rag switches I'm suspicious of this bitch
I keep on, callin', but ain't nobody up
I think she's stallin', this evil is tryin' to set me up
Came all alone if on then it's on
Bust my motherfuckin' chrome, on these jealous niggaz
It's a war zone but I'm a man so gun in hand
(War zone)
I'm on my way to see this hoe you know the plan

Can't understand, but the ain't the same
You could die over these if you slippin' in the game
Niggaz bang, but bitches gang bang too
Give up that thang, and put that pistol to your brain
If you was smart figure, don't have no love in your nigga
Any complications pull the trigger, and disgusted
Bitches be trusted, you know the rules
They underhanded, she it, you fuckin' fool

These out here tryin' to hold a nigga's heart
So a nigga get his
Balls to the
Hey be proud of it when you turn bitches upside down
What's happen
Uhh, three and a half dollars or probably fo' if a bitch
main, them hoes talented
They be fuckin' with mo' than jack the rapper
Aight fuck it, what you say
Ay, them sheisty ass botches, nigga

The California lifestyle that I
Where the bitches is and niggaz jus' don't give
A fuck, so I stay stuck, smokin' on the tay-low
Bay area playa, tryin' ta shit major
And a won't save ya
So I ain't captain save a hoe
I mob up in ya a pro and then I'm gone
I'm like Sylvester Stallone, everyday is like a
Action packed, I let the mini-mac smack ass

Them hoes that ass
Nigga woulda got on that hash
Can't have my cash, go and take your nigga stash
'Cuz he's a busta, niggaz with
Slippin' in shit, betta jack that nigga 'fore I jack his ass
was no love for the mark-ass, the lo pink
(The lo pink)
You love them Bootys bitches, can't let them bitches

Gank that ass, betta hide your cash and or pass
Pump your brakes nigga, your roll don't go too fast
bulletproof ain't doin' no good no mo' no mo' no mo' no mo'
Now, niggaz up dead with they brains blew out on the fuckin' floor
Damn, hella to the face Teflons to the vest now r-uh-rest
Pull a plug on a flat line no p-uh-ulse, one nigga
One nigga less, from coast to coast, to the East to the
Crushin' the flesh, dem bitches a game of death
Look over your shoulder watch your don't even trust it
I'm tryin' to ya end up dusted

It's some cold hearted
(Back to fuckin work, one of the homies got dusted)
Whacha'll do, whacha'll wanna do
hearted bitches
(Back to fuckin work, one of the homies got dusted)
Whacha'll wanna do, I never trusted bustas

Some hearted shit
(Back to work, one of the homies jus' got dusted)
I trusted them bustas
And it's them hearted niggas
(Back to fuckin' work, one of the homies got dusted)
Dusted 'n'