Luyện nghe bài hát Fan Mail

Baby, that ashtray in here

And bring my mail, on top of the counter
Here
Thanks, this?
I don't know some mail for you today
Fiscal, professional, what's about man?
Anyway, the will be ready in 20 minutes

Peace Allah, hope this scribe ya hands in good health
As for self, no of worryin' my cards been dealt
Sunk in a cell, fishscale, fifth of my bid
Finally got a chance recent to connect with my

kinda hard due to carelessness, I scarred they moms
And temporary, I was barred voluntary the
Nevertheless, it's issues I to address
Pertainin' to certain statements that made me

Faced with life, it when reality hit
And wit crime come a lot of shit
Too co-defendants conspiracies linkin'
the court system designed to keep the mind from thinkin'

Fog ya vision, guess it's the odds of livin'
But like me, great men became God in prison
Since Illmatic, first ya bars of life
I was up in Cansaki, started to fight

You touched souls to a lost of men
And no doubt, if ever out, they'll never me again
Faced wit 10 on state time, wit life on the
It's fucked up when own folks ain't writin' you back

Learn to relax, wit certain cats that helped adapt
You the streets to the pen, it's kinda hard to transact
All the cars and the pretty women,
The and the city livin'

I division, breakdown of the population
It's either submit, or incarceration, I felt the combination
between reality rap and the fakes
Some do it for the salary cap few

And what I been through at least in fraction
So when they spit you could the passion, I see you maxin'
That Nas and jigga Riff started some shit
It departed the prison system we argue a bit

a glimpse of what's to come
The past follow, hold the just hunger me holdin' my last bottle
I live like that of a without the title, I had to write you
beyond tryin' to enlight you

It's a token of appreciation for bein' that poet with no
Much respect us all wish you much success
Get yours, money nigga, fuck the rest, I'm signin' off
And leave in the way I greet and say peace
Keep in mind always rep the streets, you that

Word, gotta write homey
Ayo, boo I got any more of that out there?
Got a few
You read this one, the shit right here is deep, man
Aiight, a minute
Okay, what's this one here?
Oh from Nashville, alright lemme see this

AZ, is Camille since Sugarhill been a fan
And then to me you still a man
A real card player rarely his hand
And sincerely, I could say the hood ya jam

I sit and listen to your edition
Washin' in the kitchen
Or twistin' the dreads on little Christian
It's so sickenin', his father, we miss him
He was killed in a '99 car

I guess the best God get them, [Inaudible]
It's just the way it is in this system
You remind me of his one words when you speak
You and him both got that funny type of in y'all speech

At night it's like his face just emerge in my
I smoke herb so grief can stop disturbin' my peace
My deep, it coincide with the way that you rap
I hate it when them commentators say that you

You left you was always years ahead of the rest
My baby-father felt your style, he say you was best
How you dress, how you move you in the public?
Without a lot of luggage gotta love it how you thug it

Know that, that's right, big boy, okay, okay