Luyện nghe bài hát Guess Who's Back

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

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

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

From the to the tomb, a hot pot of joy and a spoon
Trying to make me thousand and move
Motels, star-studded, stars and goons
Plain wanna run in my room
But nigga who's bizack? It's ya boy Face Mob
Started with an eightball, gotta get this dawg
Give a break, nah, you know how the game go
Fuck you think I slang fo', to go against the (no)
I'm out here to grind mo', rapped up in the paper
I wanna a fine 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 a hundred
see my feet dude, you do shit a fiend do
The fire get too hot in the kitchen, I hit the streets
is an issue, and that's on the fa' shizzle my nizzle
Ya block warm, then I come by with the
And make fa' sho' I get to work mines, for of the time
We go to war and you making a dime (ha ha!)
Cause I got, to lose, a nigga out here payin his dues
My baby walking get him some shoes
It's a new game doing, lemme ya the rules
Get outta line and I'ma give ya the
It's a new game doing, lemme give ya the
Get line and I'ma give ya the blues, whoa!

Guess bizack?
The boy B. Mizack, a.k.a. Mr.
Turn a whole one from a a brick, look I mastered this
You can it once the plastic rips
A hot plate'll make ya swell up if ya gasket
You can make ya chips swell up, ya don't to pitch
Play them like a safety, watch the traffic switch
Young'n never fake, and you'll get past the blitz
And ya whole hood on flip, like on box-spring
Pissy and shit, low old box of things
glassy shit, I hug the block like a quart of water
Shit I to hug a corner like a old deuce and a quarter
like deuce in the morning, with the old heads
Slanging loose quarters, this Philly cat back (had it)
Still fucking them crack addicts
Still busting that black-matic

Guess bizack?
Back on the block with the old Mob
Mittens and Hov'
Don't make me
Back to the with the fo'
Cuz this street shit is all I