Luyện nghe bài hát Hang Out And Hustle

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

Booda Bop, Boom, Bam, Bink, Bick Bow Bookow, Ratatat, Klick, Klick
Kow, Klick Kow put brains muscle.
Hear a crew of guys utilize skills.
out hang out slang out work and hustle.
Flip boogie bangin' beats. A street 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 like brick that smacked Reginald Denny.
Collects cash n' checks on a jet to meet the client as I arrive at
L.A.X.

I'm up early so I catch my phlegm spit step then stash the stem 10
In ten shit bottles are sectioned in wit a clip a block stocked wit
see X again tools ta fry and unified like Mexicans but if shit
Is slow in comin' a fiend that's one thing that's when you see twenty running to one fiend.
Yo black tops I got that yellow high for hours buy me now or next
Time I swear I'll sell you flour I got 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 'em I gotta see em and please 'em but first of
All clothe & 'em so we can see freedom even if I jeopardize my time
And while I'm in this game I'm making sure that mine is right from
The beginning to the end its dividend to the end so I like to hang out and wit my friends.

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