Luyện nghe bài hát Guess Who's Back

to me man
This ya boy Young Hova, yo turn the motherfucking up
get right into the proceedings this evening
Headphones are distorting, it down a lil' bit
Okay, now we with it
The boy on the bass line, Face - Mob!
Welcome to New York City, it's ya boy Hov' chea
Kanye on the track (whoo!) Chi-Town, what's going on now?
Can I talk to for a minute? Lemme talk to y'all for a minute
Just gimme a minute of ya time baby - I don't much (whoo!)
Lemme talk to motherfuckers, uhh

who's bizack?
You still crack in my clothes
make me have to relapse on these hoes
Take it back out to taxing roads
I was hugging it, niggas couldn't do nothing with it
Straight from the oven with it, came from the
I emerged from it all without a on my shirt
You can blame my old earth, for the she instilled in me
Still me, pain plus work
Shit she made me milk game for all it's worth
That's right, these niggas fuck with me
I'm calling guts every time, drag my nuts time
Homey, we make a great combination we?
Me and the Face Mob, every we face-off
Face it y'all, y'all niggas playing ball
I'm on the block like I'm eight feet
Homey, I'm in the with the AC on
That's why the, streets me dawg, I'm so cool!

Guess bizack?
on the block with the old Face Mob
Mack and Hov'
make me relapse
Back to the block the fo'
Cuz street shit is all I know

From the womb to the tomb, a hot pot of joy and a
Trying to make me forty and move
Motels, star-studded, stars and goons
clothes wanna run in my room
But nigga guess who's bizack? It's ya boy Mob
Started with an eightball, gotta get this cake
Give a break, nah, you know how the game go
Fuck you I slang fo', to go against the grain (no)
I'm out to grind mo', rapped up in the paper chase
I wanna fuck a hoe and candy paint the 88
Don't got no wholesale, cause that ain't how I run it
Here take these five stones and bring a nigga back a
see my feet dude, you do shit a fiend do
The fire get too hot in the kitchen, I hit the fool
Money is an issue, and on the fa' shizzle my nizzle
Ya warm, then I come by with the fizzle
And fa' sho' I get to work mines, for part of the time
We go to war and you ain't a dime (ha ha!)
I got, shit to lose, a nigga out here payin his dues
My baby walking get him some shoes
a new game doing, lemme give ya the rules
Get line and I'ma give ya the blues
It's a new doing, lemme give ya the rules
Get outta line and give ya the blues, whoa!

Guess who's
The boy B. Mizack, a.k.a. Mr.
Turn a whole one from a a brick, look I mastered this
You can smell it once the plastic
A hot plate'll make ya swell up if ya clicked
You can make ya swell up, ya don't have to pitch
Play corners like a safety, watch the traffic switch
Young'n pump fake, and you'll get past the blitz
And keep ya whole on flip, like on box-spring
Mack and shit, low old box of things
Strictly shit, I hug the block like a quart of water
Shit I used to hug a corner like a old deuce and a
Till like deuce in the morning, the old heads
Slanging loose quarters, this Philly cat gatted (had it)
Still fucking with them crack
Still busting with that

Guess who's
on the block with the old Face Mob
Mack and Hov'
Don't make me
to the block with the fo'
Cuz this street is all I know