Luyện nghe bài hát Fan Mail

Baby, that ashtray in here

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

Peace Allah, hope this reach ya hands in good health
As for self, no sense of my cards been dealt
in a cell, fishscale, fifth year of my bid
Finally got a chance to connect with my kids

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You never left you was years ahead of the rest
My baby-father even felt style, he say you was best
How you dress, how you when you in the public?
a lot of luggage gotta love it that's how you thug it

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