Luyện nghe bài hát Guess Who's Back

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

Guess who's
You smelling crack in my clothes
Don't make me to relapse on these hoes
Take it back out to them roads
When I was hugging it, niggas couldn't do nothing it
from the oven with it, came from the dirt
I emerged it all without a stain on my shirt
You can my old earth, for the shit she instilled in me
with me, pain plus work
Shit she made me this 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 don't we?
Me and the Face Mob, every time we
Face it y'all, y'all playing basic ball
I'm on the block like I'm feet tall
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 the old Face Mob
Mack and Hov'
make me relapse
Back to the with the fo'
Cuz this shit is all I know

the womb to the tomb, a hot pot of joy and a spoon
Trying to make me thousand and move
Motels, star-studded, stars and goons
clothes wanna run in my room
But nigga guess who's It's ya boy Face Mob
Started an eightball, gotta get this cake dawg
Give niggas a break, nah, you know how the go
Fuck you I slang fo', to go against the grain (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 ain't how I wanna run it
Here take these five stones and a nigga back a hundred
Gotta see my dude, you do shit a fiend do
The fire get too hot in the kitchen, I hit the streets
Money is an issue, and that's on the fa' shizzle my
Ya block warm, then I come by with the
And make fa' I get to work mines, for part of the time
We go to war and you ain't making a (ha ha!)
Cause I got, shit to lose, a nigga out here his dues
My baby gotta get him some shoes
It's a new game doing, lemme give ya the
Get outta and I'ma give ya the blues
It's a new game doing, lemme ya the rules
Get outta line and I'ma ya the blues, whoa!

Guess bizack?
The boy B. Mizack, a.k.a. Mr.
Turn a whole one from a half a brick, I mastered this
You can smell it once the rips
A hot plate'll make ya swell up if ya gasket
You can make ya chips swell up, ya don't have to
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
Pissy and shit, low old box of things
Strictly shit, I hug the block like a quart of water
Shit I to hug a corner like a old deuce and a quarter
Till deuce in the morning, with the old heads
Slanging quarters, this Philly cat back gatted (had it)
Still with them crack addicts
Still busting that black-matic

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