Luyện nghe bài hát G.o.d. Pt. Iii (remix)

Some of that 151, son, yeah, some of bogus
Aight, aiyyo, son, yo, yo
You think that motherfuckin' out there right now, son?
Word, he doin' out here?

Son, we got with that nigga
Be tryin' to fuckin' front week
What, that kid out
Yo, I seen nigga earlier, knahmsayin'?

Nah, that, go, go open the window real quick, son
Open that fuckin'
You gonna take him from the window,
Yo, hold up, that, go, that's that nigga right there, son
Right next to the basketball

Yeah, yeah, the one
Oh, shit, c'mere, c'mere, c'mere, c'mere, turn the out
Turn the lights out, c'mon
Back up, back up, they

Aiyyo, son, I'ma hit nigga right now, son
to Mom, I'ma hit him out the window, son
Yo, you buggin', son, nah, chill 'Zo, fuck
I'ma hit that nigga right out the motherfuckin'

Hold up, you somebody go bust him?
Nah fuck, that I'ma hit nigga out the window, son
Ga head, man, shit, shit, shit, blow it up, duck down

Yo, let me do it, man, let me do it, go
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, nigga,
Yeah, gimme, gimme, gimme, gimme, fucker,

Pt. III
QBC, sip lime
Heavy on the wrist, cube-link, my ice
Drama, we bring, yeah, that's a small

G.O.D., Pt. III
QBC, sip Bacardi
Heavy on the wrist, cube-link, my ice
Drama, we bring, yo, that's a thing

Awright, now pay attention to the crime rhyme P
you niggaz in perspective
Mobb, representative, call me the
Professional professor at this rap

Up in the laboratory, here's why your rhyme bore me
bought rap ain't shit, my category
Is that of an insane who back
I draw first blood, it's over and that's that

You wanna square off, sayin' that cat?
You get from back of your head to ass crack
Surgical to the end with iron map
Which bring Apocalypse to game called rap

Not a game but quite and yo, in fact
You'll be runnin' for dear so far you might fall off the map
with P, you need a gat
At least to the opportunity to bust back

First shot, the pack around world premier
individuals bound from blind fear
Scared to death fall to they worst fear
Horror tales in for vision impaired

You for P, well, you can find him everywhere
In a project you, I'll be right there
I was brought up and taught to have no
Live wire niggaz behind me in the rear

Cowardly step aside, stand clear
My niggaz got they eyes on you
QBC, Bacardi, G.O.D. Father Pt. III
On some hashish in Embassy Suite, crash party

Yo, the G.O.D., Father Pt. III
QBC, sip lime
on the wrist, cube-link, my ice ring
Drama, we bring, yo, a small thing

It's the, G.O.D., Pt. III
QBC, sip Bacardi
Heavy on the wrist, cube-link, my ice
Drama, we bring, yo, a small thing

Yeah, yo, lime Bacardi, bent, crash the party
Handle B-I, it to anybody
damage, crowd control handle cannons
Hittin' you ripped, leave your contamin-ed

While you out of character, we observin'
Drillin' 'em so hard, I know we felt it comin' at 'em
raps float like the Phantom
Runnin' you up out of the in which you standin'

Never second-guess a cat who gat
but easily revealed and fast
Body castin' to get your back snapped in half
And severed, impossible pain measure

livin' brought him to his last bread
Life around quick to one stead
Face full of fear, conquerin' ice grill
Tragedies, put him to sleep NyQuil

Givin' a overdose of this rap
Potentially dangerous, left open
For the roaches, scavengers, EMS
Funeral homes, anticipatin' death

the dead truth, check in the morgue
You'll find proof enough to you think and stop before
Your ship to the bottom
owl leave the mark and spot him
You the routine, face up before I shot him

Yo, the G.O.D., Father Pt. III
QBC, sip Bacardi
Heavy on the wrist, cube-link, my ice
Drama, we bring, yo, that's a thing

G.O.D., Pt. III
QBC, sip Bacardi
Heavy on the wrist, cube-link, my ice
Drama, we bring, yo, that's a small

It's the, G.O., Pt. III
QBC, sip Bacardi
on the wrist, cube-link, my ice ring
Drama, we bring, yo, that's a thing

G.O.D., Pt. III
QBC, sip lime
Heavy on the wrist, cube-link, my ice
Drama, we bring, yo, that's a small

Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
G.O.D., Pt. III, niggaz