Luyện nghe bài hát Edge

Uh uh, uh, uh
Ayo, Mac 10's and friends
Lawyers little game 25 with the fuckin' nigga face 'em
But I'm still trill, still
Rollin' gully until I'm froze, close in a box with a bomb in

pumpin' ice
First some 15 keep that pumpin' right
Hard white, cold
Hold fast, fold fast, through the so gas, no ass
Straight head bitch, I'm one from the

Fuck raps, same G and canna
All I got in this world is my fifth dick and
Gangsta lyrical vandalism
Niggaz be burnin' up their until the fuckin' hammers hit 'em

Who help?
Well, until then take that mac off the shelf
And hold the fuckin' hostage
Blowin' smoke out my
breath is a step to a non-time in death

I wanna know to go
Need a place in my mind I can
'Cause this time is runnin' out for my
Dried up, sittin' in a chair up

I wanna where to go
Need a in my mind I can rest
'Cause this time is runnin' out for my
Dried up, sittin' in a chair up

You know me, I don't need no introduction in
Big gun, big dick, half of a on the wrist
Sittin' in my continental about potential connects
I live in all, pencil the best

Parts of the of a quintessential hustler
When I pull a slide
Motherfuckers be hoppin' faces don't get left open
You

Shirt soaking, brain smokin' left in the floatin'
Shyne Po, dough, stack, y'all Rap is trash
I don't give a fuck how much records you
to be me, keep it real dog, you'll die to be me

You wanna how it feel, don't you?
To have a murder charge, took gun to the American Music
And live life stars
170 screamin', "Fuck the world"
Gangsta get the car

I wanna where to go
a place in my mind I can rest
'Cause this time is runnin' out for my
Dried up, in a chair fried up

I know where to go
Need a place in my I can rest
this time is runnin' out for my flesh
Dried up, sittin' in a fried up

the fuck them niggaz at? We gonna handle this beef
Turn mic off bitch, see me in the street
Fuck 'til I'm rest in the dried up flesh is finish
I don't know how to tell I'm in the morgue

Dysfunctional, highly uncomfortable
the extra clip, bitch, try me I'll puncture you
Had niggaz wakin' up wings in their backs
Halos in head like, "Ayo I'm dead"

Can a knight fuckin' Diana type
wives, vane light, pen I write cold, hand of ice
They said too much for the motor mind to
Walk wit me, pause a breath

Things just the same for gangstas
Sleepin' in diamond, it's up the game for gangstas
charges tryin' to rin a gangsta
Through it all I maintain my

I to know where to go
a place in my mind I can rest
'Cause this is runnin' out for my flesh
up, sittin' in a chair fried up
...