Luyện nghe bài hát Dyin Wit'cha Boots On

Trouble to catch a motherfucker with his cards down
keep my drawers up, shit's gettin hard now
These motherfuckin be plantin shit on these niggas
Simply cause these niggas got bank accounts that's
I just can't get no peace from u motherfuckin
Everytime I pull my Benz or what cha pull me over
I'm sick of who be checkin Whitey's coke tip
Blacker than a motherfucker, sweat me dope sip
Niggas take your cut and get yo ass out my face
The only thing you get from me is a cock sucking pistol case
you plan on plantin a lil' somethin in my shit
Just you ain't got shit, bitch
em a badge and a trigger and that makes em figure
That they can fuck a million dolla nigga
They got u up, fixed up in the Segas, shookin Indo
fucked up in the gank hole
The only way whip that motherfucker is when you whip that

And we choke the (Me Stuck the motherfucker!)
So when you hear my and wanna get it on
You better come prepared motherfucker. You dyin wit cha on.
Chorus: Put foot in my shit and let me try on your hood
Dyin wit cha on
Put your in my shit and let me try on your hood

Interlude(prison guard to inmate):
Guard: Do you know how many you're facin inside?
25 to and that's on the real
So you better snitch on partner
Inmate: Fuck that! It was Brad Dawg, I ain't out by myself.
Niggas getting caught, doin so they snitchin
They pickin up on funky suspicion
We'll be goin down for some questionin we
And end up gettin hit wit the fuckin kitchen
Rackteer and laundering, wondering
If they got some unsolved murders then give them some of
Just we're niggas and they figure we're no smarter
We sell each other albums, frattin our partners
They start bringin up shit that happened in 85
And comes the largest jury bitch they fuckin time
You might as well the state
Cos you to day for day
And sellin out your homeboys ain't the
Cos gon have to die in this bitch, bitch
Lobbin wit cha suit on
And dyin wit cha boots on
Put ya foot in my and let me try on ya hood