Luyện nghe bài hát Hit The Dirt

Yea, ya boy on the track,
flow so shawty, call it ear crack,
this the type a beat make ya go smack,
this shit so it done had a heart-attack,
I spit so I bet I could sell a mill,
but because there's too many Shadys I can't get a deal,
so I gotta rob, cheat, gotta steal,
there's too fakes out here so I gotta keep it real,
when I'm to ya girl, gettin' up in them panties,
youse a lame ass nigga, and that's why you can't me,
find me in ya shawty's crib, layin' while she hand me,
nigga I'ma take ya bitch, what you understand me?
you by yo'self, me and yo' bitch,
she on my dick you light ya spliff,
and do ya girl till she go stiff,
I'm a real ass nigga that's the diff',
yea nigga fuck you and ya damn crew,
niggas gone do what fuck niggas gone do,
so hit the when I slide through,
'cause I got a of doggs that will find you,
so go ahead and try me if ya see if it's fake,
and I bust ya head nigga, take it on faith,
come and find me homie amd show you ya fate,
stuffed in a oil in the bottom the lake,
'cause I'm my nigga,
sit still my nigga,
ask me in the A,
I'm a ass nigga,
the deal my nigga?
how ya feel my
oh, for real? let me go and the steel my nigga,
I aint talkin' 'bout guns homie, talkin' my knives,
I it slow and painful when I'm takin' niggas lives,
matter fact the same way as when I'm niggas wives,
shit the bitch set him up, why I fly her to St. Ives,
be a D-Grade nigga, but I do Grade-A shit,
find ya in the club booty-poppin' on my dick,
at first you might be thinkin' who is this
when ya realize ya baby mama this shit makin' you sick,
all the say I'm cold, that's why I carry two heaters,
white wife beaters, Addidas,
we big trucks, don't do two seaters,
my girl like a lunch, now it's time to go eat 'er,
can't her to a housewife, so why take her to dinner,
I got more chicken-heads the trash at Mrs. Winners,
still chokin' on my shit, girl you a beginer,
used to be a man, ya throat game made me a sinner.

You hatin' on me 'cause I'm a bitch,
you a ass broad and I'm shinin' bitch,
don't be mad at my hustle I'm grindin' bitch,
aint my you make your money ridin' dick,
and stay away from my nigga 'cause our is true,
you can begging bitch, he don't love you boo,
you need to get a kit to tighten all your screws,
'cause did you and that's why you loose,
bitch how you gonna be a hoe, even swallow,
"Don't lose a drop", is my motto,
now you mad, face red as a tomatoe,
hatin' on me ya man hit the lotto,
and I was first prize, I can see it in eyes,
don't know if it's the or it's me that you despise,
when I'm ya nigga all we do is fantasise,
all the positions he can get between my thighs,
and you call him a thug, what's wrong with that?
his last long and his dick is P.H.A.T.,
I'm to this nigga like the boy was crack,
you gotta worry girl I'll pick up the slack,
you aint hit it right, or he wouldn't be in my bed,
with my ass in the air, my legs up my head,
while he working that down between my legs,
he say when it comes to pussy shorty the best,
that's because I keep it clean, my kitty fresh,
shit like a skunk and been beat to death,
I only one nigga, you fuck all the rest,
you ass hoe better get the test,
you behind home plate, all kinds of shit,
then you fuck nigga, play pass the sick,
and when he piss in the morning his go drip,
and he got little bumps on his dick,
yea, you need to kill yaself you worthless as a person,
your good for a quick fuck, other than that you're nothin',
you make me so mad bitch I'm blow a gasket,
wait for you to die so I can piss on your casket.
hit the dirt!