Luyện nghe bài hát Hang Out And Hustle

The see-are-you-D-D-why, the
It's pure terror a street professor aggressor scale and measure
Clever compressor stretching stacks be running blocks as a factory
Structure capture the raw product I manufacture, critic chatter
Nigga catcher as I a cop matter capsule shatter scatter midnight
Disasters clips I rather gather then flip for what I'm now and
Forever money makes things better at a gets me jewelry, bitches,
Bankcards, cars and competitors proposed threats wreck and puff ya
Puzzled see muzzles when I hang and hustle.

Booda Bop, Boom, Bam, Bink, Bick Bow Bookow, Ratatat, Klack Klick,
Kow, Klick Kow put brains muscle.
Hear a crew of guys utilize skills.
out hang out slang out work and hustle.
Flip techniquesover boogie bangin' beats. A fleet with Moet, dank and freaks in
Twenty separate suite I'm dope lyrics holding weight, just like
Chris Webber a warrior from Golden State, and I up raps I bet you
Don't know any they be hitting that brick that smacked Reginald Denny.
Collects cash n' checks on a jet to meet the next as I arrive at
L.A.X.

I'm up early so I my phlegm spit step then stash the stem 10 clips
In ten shit bottles are sectioned in wit a clip a block stocked wit
Protection see X again tools ta fry and like Mexicans but if shit
Is slow in comin' a fiend that's one thing that's when you see niggas running to one fiend.
Yo black tops I got that yellow high for hours buy me now or next
Time I swear I'll you flour I got dreams of getting a 98 or a Caddy
Living fatty I got a little man calling me daddy my lady and little
Man they need me and I need 'em I see em and please 'em but first of
All clothe & feed 'em so we can see even if I jeopardize my time
And life while I'm in this game I'm sure that mine is right from
The beginning to the end its dividend to the end so I to hang out and hustle wit my friends.

Well it's Friday and the weekend's here.
All that partying shit must take a to the rear.
Instead of fuckin' wit those phony ghetto I'd rather be movin' my
Clips with my homies on the bricks my fingers hard. My hands stay
Full of ash. My fingenails stay dirty from burying my stash.
Fiends are bummin', money's to say the least, but I'm out there
Flippin' clips feeding the belly of the beast. It's of the month
comin all day all night and too many going for theirs I'm cuttin'
Sales off my bike.
Now with my niggaz in session we rhyme.
Reminiscing moving shit 20's of clips at a time.