Luyện nghe bài hát Dusted 'n' Disgusted

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

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

I this one bitch that'll double dribble and set 'em up y'all
She the monies in the middle, play tether ball
Thick ass bitch, high yellow
crevice southern bitches, aka posies pussyfictious

Nigga holdin' guts, but shit on his self and a funky bill
Pullin' out bills, frontin' on material
That's when I get to shit
(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 that killed ya
Took all your peeled ya
niggaz bust in the room with AK's
While a nigga be on his jimmy
All of a sudden they up your Vuitton
Before you can hit the

See money-a-made nigga, that nigga didn't make that money
Left niggaz jacked up, and the bitch she macked him
He's a busta, punk ass nigga, know the streets
That's why that naked layin' dead in between 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 bitch can't be trusted
and di-motherfuckin'-sgusted

It's some cold hearted
(Back to fuckin work, one of the jus' got dusted)
Whacha'll wanna do, wanna do
Cold hearted
(Back to work, one of the homies jus' got dusted)
Whacha'll wanna do, I trusted them bustas

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

Let's let of some on the other side of t-uh-town
Draw the attention on the other s-uh-side of
(Other of town)
And for the po-po shift to change, ghetto shootin' range
on the r-uh-rebound, war games
Droughts, ouch, lost but I will prevail
By sellin' the broccoli dank of the crack cocaine
Try not to narcotics
these punk MC's 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 hittin' switches I'm suspicious of this
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 it's on it's on
Bust my motherfuckin' chrome, on these jealous niggaz
It's a war zone but I'm a man so with gun in
(War zone)
I'm on my way to see this hoe you know the plan

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

These hoes out here tryin' to a nigga's heart
So a get his motherfuckin'
Balls to the
Hey be proud of it when you turn these upside down
What's gonna
Uhh, three and a dollars or probably fo' if a bitch ridin'
Yeah main, hoes talented
They be fuckin' with mo' MC's jack the rapper
Aight it, what you say Mall?
Ay, them sheisty ass botches, nigga

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

Them hoes that ass
Nigga woulda got smokin' on that
have my cash, better go and take your nigga stash
'Cuz a busta, niggaz with clusters
Slippin' in shit, betta jack that nigga 'fore I jack his ass
Never was no love for the mark-ass, the lo
(The lo pink)
You love them Bootys bitches, can't let pussy bitches

Gank that ass, betta your cash and check or pass
Pump brakes nigga, slow your roll don't go too fast
'Cause ain't doin' no good no mo' no mo' no mo' no mo'
Now, niggaz comin' up dead with they brains blew out on the floor
Damn, force 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 less, from coast to coast, to the East to the West
Crushin' the flesh, dem played a game of death
Look your shoulder watch your back don't even trust it
I'm tryin' to ya end up dusted

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

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