Luyện nghe bài hát Hitmen

I him dead.
I don't care how you do it I don't when you do it
but I just him dead.
I don't care if you gotta bring him over with his mother
but I him dead.
I want his dead I want his father dead...
I care I want his DOG dead...

(Verse 1)
Sonny pat me down sat me said look at me now
'Kirk no fucking around I want you to this clown
If you fuck up then you fucked, best not to
Fuck you fucked what? FUCK! You think you tough?'
Chill! I need two's to bust, the anger
And all that hostility, grilling me, you killing me, feelin' me?
Guess not...who you dead? "Vinnie." How much bread?
his head fed and called his man Fred "Yo Fred!"
Fred said, "FUCK you!" Oh me? Lucky
As long as of you touch me everything'll be lovely
Trust me, where the money at? tapped Fred, "This is a funny cat
You're black, you get the money when you back!"
What's that? Whatchu say? Nah you didn't say
Laid snatched the gat under my grey hat and said "stay back"
Clack, I play that! Shot Fred in his top lip [Ahh!!]
That's for shit, and shot Sonny is his dick [Ahhhh!!]
Blew brains then skipped in a Towncar brown car
Vinnie said, "What? No scars? it go down, par'?"
"Like quicksand." "Damn, your thirty-six grand.
Lemme shake your hand, shit man, you're my hit man!"

(Chorus)
Yo we hitmen, charge thirty G's
You might see the ex-poor theivz and to fled
Instead, in with the crowd while we cockin' this
But sudden moves will make yourself obvious
Gimmie a price I like, sound good then I might
the life of whoever knowing never could do it better
Remember no kids and double for
Pass the bills, pictures, and and I'll do the kill

(Verse 2)
Peep the sag, I was two G's by the mob
Two Z's and the for this hitman job
my hand for initiation, cats told me the situation
Them niggas transporter was
Coke was missing was shortin' it up
He was supposed to be importin' it up, but he was it up
So they me to his house in a '98 Blazer
Under my toungue, razor, gun with the lazer
Jumped out all black on feeling no love
With the untouched slugs, black mask the gloves
Ran up in his crib-o the click-o and seen dick-o
Headed for the door with two to 'Fransisco
Him and his bitch, yo! She was type rio
shirt with the straw hat holding parico
Yo chico! Where's the rest of the kilos, we you got 'em
Red light dot him, him on his head, shot him
His girl behind him sobbing for her stocking
A holster strapped to her leg she had the glock in
She heard me cocking, and tried to go for hers
[gunshot] was like, "Damn why you open hers
Before she showed you where the Coca Fuck man..."

(Chorus)

(Verse 3)
Dog it much time for explaining, and you a hitman in training
What to and not to do the bullets start raining
Killing and maintaining be the key for this
Number never ever ever point a gat at me
FUCK if it's unloaded, threaten this man's
me by mistake I'll kill you my DAMN self
Now hold it to the side firm, squeeze they squirm
Use nines for niggas tec-nines for strong niggas
Never let a contract your flow
''cause you might be next to get it when your dough
But yo, the best target is one that moves
2's that'll be kept tucked under daily news
Every shot with the nigga hired to hit on
You don't want an empty clip with niggas to shit on
No vest and you get lit on, you might wanna split man
But shit, man, that's all part of being a

(Conversation with hitman)

(Chorus)

There's three no's to a
No
No
No

dismissed