Luyện nghe bài hát Hitmen

I him dead.
I don't care how you do it I care when you do it
but I just him dead.
I don't care if you bring him over here 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 down look at me now
no fucking around I want you to clap this clown
If you fuck up you fucked, best not to fuck
Fuck you fucked then what? FUCK! You think you
Chill! I two's to bust, save the anger
And all that hostility, stop grilling me, you killing me, me?
not...who you want dead? "Vinnie." How much bread?
Shook his head fed and his man Fred "Yo Fred!"
Fred said, "FUCK you!" Oh me? Lucky
As as none of you touch me everything'll be lovely
Trust me, where the money at? Sonny tapped Fred, "This is a cat
You're black, you get the money when you back!"
that? Whatchu say? Nah you didn't say that
Laid back snatched the gat under my hat and said "stay back"
Clack, I don't that! Shot Fred in his top lip [Ahh!!]
That's for shit, and shot Sonny is his dick [Ahhhh!!]
Blew they brains skipped in a Towncar brown car
Vinnie said, "What? No How'd it go down, par'?"
"Like quicksand." "Damn, here's thirty-six grand.
Lemme shake your hand, shit man, you're my hit man!"

(Chorus)
Yo we hitmen, thirty G's ahead
You might see the ex-poor and want to fled
Instead, blend in with the crowd we cockin' this
But sudden moves will just make obvious
Gimmie a price that I like, sound good I might
Take the life of whoever never could do it better
Remember no kids and for females
Pass the bills, pictures, and details and I'll do the

(Verse 2)
the sag, I was fronted two G's by the mob
Two Z's and the for this hitman job
Burnt my hand for initiation, cats me the situation
niggas transporter was lacing
Coke was missing they was it up
He was supposed to be importin' it up, but he was it up
So they sent me to his house in a '98
Under my toungue, razor, gun pager the lazer
Jumped out all black on feeling no love
With the untouched slugs, mask with the gloves
Ran up in his crib-o with the click-o and seen
Headed for the door two tickets to 'Fransisco
Him and his bitch, yo! She was type rio
Flower shirt with the hat holding parico
Yo chico! Where's the rest of the kilos, we you got 'em
Red light dot him, spot him on his head, him
His girl behind him reaching 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
she showed you where the Coca was? Fuck man..."

(Chorus)

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

(Conversation with hitman)

(Chorus)

There's three to a hitman:
No
No
No

Class