Luyện nghe bài hát Hold His Own

Yo, yo
What,
Wanna
on, come on
What,
Bounce,
Check it out

Yo, you see the Benz I'm in, BBS rims
Lil' Kim's part off The Benjamins
I ain't a player, I just wear
No need for gators, my feet swim
I'm in Reno, Nevada, a pena colada
How many can see Montanna?
This movie's killin' and
love me in polo jeans and rugbys
You can hate it or it, imiatate it or dub it
Compared to us, niggas ain't
It's funny how get paid for frontin'
Glorifying crimes, and ain't done 'em
My split 'em like pimpin', Dom P sippin'
I'm not a baller, haven't lived it
Women callin', since my days in the crib
I to live enormous
I live nike dunks, icey
A fly I can trust
Not that she gon' hesit me for re-up
I might be, Iron Mike if you try to me
I say politely, tell it to a friend
Hard from the start, get to the end
What up with Did you see him?
in the BM with the rim's gleamin'

[Chorus - Thomas]
gonna hold his own
He always knew he do it alone
And when he
Everybody's gonna

Yo, I write rhymes for the flyest whips, chicks
And any nigga that thinks he's as nice as this
See me chillin' in clubs with and thugs
wanna test this, we fill 'em with slugs
My jewlery gliestenin', usually sickenin'
like Fab 5 at Michigan, you listening?
Pimps, I bust 'em, niggas, trust 'em
Snitches, want 'em in my shit
We in a tunnel, buyin' mo' by the
You when we come through, get it right
But dead? right, spit nice
I where you read my man was jessying your wife
I you chill unless you ill enough to test the skill
I possess niggas, for real
I'm the last of the mohecans, rhyme ill flow
Due to magazines, no equal
No to my flow evil, deletin' your people
We through seein' time, you're
Nas off the meter, rhyme for the
Roll wit' overacheivers, my people, my from madenas
Where you at dime-peices, fly
Lookin' so right my man is dying to ya
I know baby dad just buying you sneakers
But I'm a keep it real, I cheap
it out

Yo, to the haters, lovers, thug mommys
Walk around me tryin' to stuck-up
See me in a and wanna say "what's up?"
I put my and the gas and tell they ass "tough luck"
I don't beef, I finish it
My hearts diminishin'
Before a had dough, you didn't
You a pathetic nigga, it was Biggie and Pac
Now you jealous of
You like a implant, fake on the inside
You nice, let's battle for dough Mr.
On Hot 97, or live at
I can ass-bend you and still leave 10 g's
Too real for you, what you I live and breath
Whoever intervene, come on, get your team
And I'm a you who the illest
'Cause know who the realest
Now it