Luyện nghe bài hát Ghetto B.I.

[Method
Yeah ha.. we
Channel livin' all day ha
Yo its me the uh o-d
??
a whole key
My coke
Be my tellin me it dont make sense
Then his nonsense
A best defense is his offense
So yo I po po
And a dodo
Birdies in gogo's
to steal my mojo
Oh no your'e fuckin a pro
Who go for
For sure
A season veteran a (dobo??)
Come on now judge
Youre televised through our
While I you get imprisoned
When my see through your eyes
hypnotized
Subconsciously you change the station to channel
That underground hard-core sound who said die
if it is me and my nine's
The first to
For my
by the fire die by the flame
Happy im gone knowin my son's be the same
As his dough-diggy dog
Who put his on a pamphlet
A pen unleash the dragon uh
Im on ya hot grease on a skillet
on real tv because they feel us

2]
I'm livin like a in a jeep stolen
Wools in sheeps
All frozen
Bust like trojans
Nautrally rollin and weed smokin
We keep
Bitches on knees open
I spit a automatic semi barking part
And if you me starin blame the remmy martin
So liquor ghetto people
Dutches and c-lo's duckin the
For them lady c-o's
Rhymes devine (evol??)
Smoked out in the regal
With a on my beecho
Theres eight million
Only six million to die
two million niggas getting away with crime
Theres two million more whack niggas to rhyme
Now theres four million tryin to eat at one time
It the thugs gunnin in the blood runnin
And the frontin
Enough to make nigga something

Niggas fuckin with that
The models get
So we gonna be big
Its ghetto
jack cars and rap stars
Rockin the bars
dancin naked on their lap
Its ghetto
Niggas hold
Hot steakin' the biscut
Ghetto nigga cores is ghetto business
Yo, drinks and son
seeds son
I got what you son
Its all business

3]
Yo this is for the
Walking on the green
My be like the spirit of a teen gone wild
Shit is after ten bitch wheres your
With a nine in his pocket it down like penile
I did the to born
style straight corn
I woke up in the
Heard your shit and yawned
You fuckin up my
No lie
You can die
??
Before i you up like god
Yo its the slinger
New style
Rap is for my war
Fat like Clinger
We still the hardcore with r&b singers
While the beast ask you out hoes on Jerry Springer

4]
Yo rally hot feel so sick
And I won't 'til I'm so so rich
While niggas spit
I (WHOOO) hits
Don't waste
And I don't rhymes
Few minutes,
Track like swiss
If you ain't hot come like
Real niggas hold a gun like
Pop something, one in leg
Make ass run like this
Now that
rhymes never that
Son son you
You ain't a man you got a little something to shade
been a thug since the sixth grade
Rockin a
Boomy
Look what the ghetto to me
Made you now
Heart now
soldier now
Gun now
Nigga snath my chain, catch him hold him
Hit him with the hot slugs like now
I know you test rock, what you waitin for
I live one-thirty-eight basement
City up you can't escape the raw
Find me where live be at
(What is this)
Business

[Beat Out]

[Rowdy Freestyle]
You fin to blow up shit
Youre a bomb threat
How the fuck you gonna move a
You aint moved out from your yet
I'm a vet, better yet a
The smith and wessun
megatron
Understand I'm hip-hop
I be put into tiny ziplocks
by those who flip rocks
Leak use word Smith b
So dope you sniff me
And learn to me out ya mouth
Get me
I'm goin to Armaghetto
My click be sickly
So we don't we spit in bed
Those trying to get hit in the head
around and get hit in the head
Everything I write is either a sentence or a blood line
For those who love
We don't in club lines
We V.I.P
Thugs to hear me spit that
If you ain't down ghetto business
THE EXIT PUNK, HIT THAT !