Luyện nghe bài hát Gladiators

Hell
Oh we told y'all niggaz last it was More Than Music
Y'all ain't wanna huh, okay
(Rell) Ruger (Rell)
Check it man,

Hell
I heard this nigga was for a body bag
100 bricks, that's a come-up, rob stash
I'm Jason Vorheas without the mask
Rap game is Lake, what you need, I'll get you weight
How you want it, or uncooked
Bagged or
jackin' my swag, fag
You Rell, I show you how to mack a diva
I'm tired of niggaz callin' me, I'm back to beepers
Valore match my sneakers, Porsche, features
I feel god, but I'm like all the pastor preachers
Ya wife middle name is Train nigga,
Ya know what I claim, Dipset,
Yeah, is the Ave
Plus Ruger's the
Familiar Ferraris
I ain't new to the
I y'all niggaz was waitin' for it, the waitin's over
Here it y'all, Diplomat takeover

40.
These rappers better keep my name out they
For they really end up with my name in they
What they about, there's no paper to count?
The type to re-up with papi, and pay for a
You flippin' basuda, y'all gettin' no mula
Ya a lil' whip now, dippity-doo-dow
Sick I cruise by, 6 when the goons by
plates when they ship me a new ride
Your nightmare
the Birds fight fair
My niggaz really like termite stairs
Turnpike yeah, with that work right
everybody want it like its pearl white Airs
What you know bud with furry white hairs
Only bud you is when you hurl light beer
I still Dip with the Set that ya set dip
Set-trip, get hit with the Tec, I stretch shit
I'm 40.

J.R.
I'm from the bottom of the queer
Get your riot gear, Writer's
I'll you out the night you wear
Yeah, I'm with that white to spare
Got the corner store like a white affair
aware, the D's on alert
Creppin' for perps, but my V, it surf
Screech and reverse, Spree's' will
Ya easy to murk, you'll need you a
Why beef with jerks
When I can put a in the dirt
And try to grow a tree out the
Indeed I'm the worst, sleeve Smurfs
Other that, it look like you can ski down my shirt
mad the monster made it
But I'm beyond the
You're honored, favored, nor nominated
is easy, but to them it's complicated
You ain't dropping shit, career is constipated

Santana:
What you know 'bout it, I'm a pimp
I get dough have your bitch go count it
hit you with the quarter pound, not 4 ounces
The .4 pound ya
Leave ya shiverin' like he took a ice-cold shower

Bloaw ya, leave ya for a nice cold hour
The bitch real thick, then I might go
I'm getting big chips, you got micro
Small, see I ball a new draft
crew mad ock
Cuz I the top off of that new Jag
"Who that" is what the bitches when I cruise past
Two Mags, I it and pave it through his durag
Two K's of blue haze I stuff up in that bag
Blue 5th, two I got up in that Lou bag
You mad cuz money coming in too fast
Too bad there ain't a crew fag

I told y'all man
Y'all niggaz can't wit' us
We the Gladiators, Dipset
We a force to be reckon with
to all my hustlers
All my bitches all a dollar
All my in the pen
ya head
I'll see y'all real soon
niggaz know what it is
Take a stand, for the powerfulest movement moving
It's all muthafuckin' day