Luyện nghe bài hát Got Ur Self A...

Woke up mornin', (yeah)
You got a gun (yeah, yeah, yeah)
Got a gun

Yo, I'm livin' in this time behind enemy so

I got mine, I hope you (got a gun)
You from the hood I you (got yo'self a gun)
You beef? I hope ya (got yo'self a gun)
And when I see you I'ma take I want
So, you to front, hope ya (got yo'self a gun)
You ain't real, hope ya (got a gun)

My, first album had no famous guest
The I'm crowned the best lyricist
Many years on this level
Why would you question who's better? The world is mine
Tattoos real "God's Son" across the belly
The boss of rap, you saw me in "Belly" thoughts like that
To take it back to Africa, I did it Biggie
Me and Tupac were soldiers of the struggle
You lames should huddle, your shook
Y'all feel the wrath of a killer, 'cause this is my football
Throwin' passes a barrel, shoulder pads apparel
But the Q.B. don't for no quarterback
Every word is a sawed-off blast, 'cause y'all all soft
And I'm the black hearse that came to haul ass in
It's for the hood by the corner
Many try, die, come at Nas if you want a war, get it bloody, uh

Yo, I'm the N the A to the
And If I wasn't, I been Escobar
You know the kid got his tooth fixed
Hair parted with a preciseness, Bravehearted for life
It's the return of the Golden Child, son of a blue's
So who are you playa? Y'all awaited the savior
that tropical, cups of that Vodka too
Papi chu', tore up, wake up in a
up? Never, 'member I do this through righteous steps
You Judists I was gone, so in light of my death
Y'all been all happy-go-lucky, bunch of
me "God's Son", with my pants low
I don't die slow, put them rags up like Petey
This is Nasdaq dough, in my Nascar with this Nas
Flip the beat back, now it's all
Hit the sto', never let me go, get my whole collection, yo

It's, the, of the Prince, the boss
This is real hardcore, Kid Rock and Bizkit's soft
Sip Cris', get chips, gliss, I floss
Stick shift, look sick up in that Boxter
With the top cut off, rich go and cop The Source
They know about the blocks I'm on
And everybody want to know where the kid go? Where he at?
Where he at and dress at?
Know he got dough, does he live? Is he still in the bridge?
Does he really how ill that he is?
Got all of y'all watchin' my moves, my watch and my
Hop in my coupe, interviews like that
It's not only my jewels, ice anything, chains
at my tennis shoes, I iced that
Who am I? The back-twister,
Automatic leg-spreader, brain-getter
Keepin' it gangsta ya, uh

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