Luyện nghe bài hát G'z Up

x2]
G'Z UP!, to every hood and crew
U (you), to have ya gun 'round you
N-I (and I), claim G-Unit die
got it down to a T (tee), Ya'll aint fuckin me

Whoever it was that carrots (karots) was good for ya sight
Must've never came a rock this bright
I been hot since first put on a glitter glove and
Slipped backwards on the stage, so give a nigga
Yeah, I'm popular, but get it fucked up
The Uz'll have ya in the club like the bruck up, What's Up
With wannabe Lloyd Banks's, toy gangstas
We to do a remix 'cause theres some more Wankstas
My street strap Mag's on they waist
under the shirt, and black rags on they face
Im a problem, Lord can you find a way to me
I cant die, shit, i aint have my baby
Fuck its all gravy, if I go, Im
comes for everybody, no acception to the rule
I'm a G-Unit soldier, with my eyes low
Funny rims spinnin backwards in a
Ya'll the kid got the game in a gyro
in words, to choke, nigga, im no joke
how the fuck you 4 million records and go broke
how the fuck you take a trip to jamaica and smoke
Out in L.A., I know a Damu's and Loc's
My chain heavy, 'bout the weight of on a rope
Leave ya girl around me to long, I'm pokin' her
Soon as she open her coat, bend her and STROKE

x2]

In the town Im from, the tattle-tells dont like Pro-Keds
The lil niggas they mopeds round the dope heads
Glass on the ballcourt, you even cross-over
poppin the ball, I'm not gonna fall
One year now im in the pop ??
Bulletproof glass ya boy, glock in the door (jea!)
Im on tour, pocket of raw, knockin ya (jea!)
You back home suckin' ya teeth, the floor (laughs)
Im gettin top dollar, these freebies
Been in the game a and got 2 "Best Of Banks" Cd's
If they aint mine then i dont give a about em
shit, R. Kelly with kids and niggas still bought his album
I learned patience 'cause it takes
Now my delivery is sicker McGrady on the baseline
None of the Tec's jus around
'cause i got a roster, that'll a record label down
Im a monster, i da whole track up
My closet bar'll break on me if I throw throwback up
Im flyin to Miami, just to do a feature
they throwin paper at me like a substitute teacher
Im far from the leechers, they cant even reach us
Im on the left coast gettin my dick on the beaches
Somebody hurlin up, that i stunt
And other verse you hear is the rhyme of the month, YEA