Luyện nghe bài hát Foul Cats

Intro/Outro: 2X

cats scheamin up the setup
Tryin to leave me and my wet up
Two in the head, up
Call the coroners to make bed up
Infrared shit neck up
they got to lit the tec up

[Kool G
It was a setup, my nigga got hit, they blew his up
The hollow ripped his vest up, son is messed up
and blessed up; call my cast up -- time to dress up
Four-fifth and Smith-n-Wessed up, to press up
and fuck their nest up, the enemy is to sessed up
Actin up, hit my man up
Never again he stand up, yo Big Jan hook the plan up
the masks, pull the van up
These niggaz to hit the fam up; these small times cats
Yo fuck that, I see that, where them niggaz be at?
Where they hang at? Where they live at? Where slang at?
(Aiyyo Son one is a known cat, he walk around with the gat
This hoodrat know the nigga home at)
Well here's a baby, go and phone that
motherfucker bout to get his shit blown back
His dome clapped, we cock back the gats and started cruisin
Up the boulevards and avenues-n, I'm fusin
and two biscuit usin; mad hot but, not in the for losin
We hit the strip up clues and
we on the heels of this shoes and
out the blue when, we see the the nigga screwin
Pushin his with the ice cuban
Hemmed her up sweet, put heat to her wig piece, the zig
to this nig's beefs, this bitch Charise
East New York, listen bitch, you better talk
Or get whole frame surrounded, with white chalk
Pulled the rat in back of the van, bitch we don't you
we want man, you understand?
The hoe said, "Please, I got his house keys, the got
five and mad cheese, a hundred G's"
Lie to me bitch you gettin one of
C's in both knees, she said, "Honestly I promise G
I'm not lying," then the hoe crying
We hit the me and my niggaz flying
to the crib in Jackson Heights, the nigga live flights up
He type buck, but I ain't a fuck
Grab his bitch up, make the hoe go in case
the nigga buck, open the door up, and put the in front
Then we all creepin, he stretched out
up on the sofa sleepin, yeah me and my cats there
peepin, money's about to get laced
My nigga Ty a glass of whiskey in his face
Big Jan to blaze the place; he on his way
to Amazing Grace -- woke up and saw the big guns
Me and my two sons, he he was done
You hurt a loved one, back about to let him have one
Yo that, aiyyo black, where the sack of heroin at?
I'm bout to give cat some motherfuckin tracks
We dumped the whole bag inside a spoon and the room
to heat that, and right back, yo grab the nigga arm black
Put raw shit in the nigga vein, the needle drain
Went from being restrained to mad
Less than a nigga started zonin
His mouth foamin, lookin like he by The Omen
His bitch was for the phone and, I had to smack her
with the chrome and, her on the floor moanin
back, I had to finish this, know my stee'
we no witnesses, shot and got the fuck out the premises