Luyện nghe bài hát Hang Out And Hustle

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

Booda Bop, Boom, Bam, Bink, Bow Bookow, Ratatat, Klack Klick, Klick
Kow, Klick Kow put brains muscle.
Hear a of guys utilize they skills.
Bang out hang out slang out and hustle.
Flip techniquesover 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 State, and I conjure up raps I bet you
Don't any they be hitting like 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 catch my phlegm spit step then the stem 10 clips
In ten shit are sectioned in wit a clip thick a block stocked wit
Protection see X again ta fry and unified like Mexicans but if shit
Is slow in comin' a fiend one thing that's when you see twenty niggas running to one fiend.
Yo black tops I got yellow high for hours buy from me now or next
I swear I'll sell you flour I got dreams of getting a 98 or a Caddy
Living fatty plus I got a little man calling me my lady and little
Man need me and I need '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 life while I'm in this game I'm making that mine is right from
The beginning to the end its dividend to the end so I like to out and hustle wit my friends.

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