Luyện nghe bài hát Hold Up

Yeah, nigga, yeah, south suicide
right, Q U, nigga, yea yea
Shit like that, what Im sayin', put these drinks up
Ya Let's do this right, what? Yo

Hold up, this is for my thugs on the
For my one stop niggaz that be huggin' the
Sittin' on crates, gettin' loaded, get that
Dodgin' drinks, spit and hafta cover face

Kick some tye, big with tricks inside
In too deep, tryna bricks from the side
See no games, real niggaz from other hoods
Car get lost, some niggaz get jooked

But God forgive me if a cross the fam
the heat, the streets'll make me force ya hand
From my wild crew, the new guns off the roof
To slick dudes, hot and they workin' the phone booth

'Cuz Lord, knows, I'm gonna and bust back
Incredible gats, indicted for a rap
They duck low enough, shots shredded they hat
and gone, nigga, it's a medical fact

Hold up, this is for my gangsta
And my dime little mamis timbs and jeans
When it's on, know, we ain't afraid to clap things
In the club, bent, goin' crazy

Hold up, this is for my gangsta
And my dime little rockin' timbs and jeans
When on, know, we ain't afraid to clap them things
In the club, gettin' bent, crazy

Hold up, is for my chicks in the spot
All my bus stop bitches that be pushin' drops
Playin' the gate, get it ma, get those

Hustle that face, seven G's ya waist
Project chick, dippin' whips, the strip
Gettin' money for tuition, go to school and she

Kill in the club, when niggaz dicks get
Murda mami, set you up and niggaz get robbed
her soul if a chick try to set my team
I'm tying her up, rep till the of Queens
All my staircase keep flippin' the jun's

All my outta state niggaz keep gettin ones
Guns in the air, hit you with glocks
mean you never see it comin' nigga, fifty two shots
I'm takin' ya nigga, if you like it or not
You either or get rushed, I guess not

Hold up, this is for my gangsta
And my dime little mamis rockin' and jeans
When on, know, we ain't afraid to clap them things
In the club, gettin' bent, crazy

up, this is for my gangsta team
And my little mamis rockin' timbs and jeans
When it's on, know, we ain't afraid to clap things
In the club, gettin' bent, goin'

fingaz, the nigga that be stickin' them spots
For all my gun-cock niggards, that be bustin' off
Lay in the straight, black mask raidin' ya
Show me ya before I put two in ya face

Dirt on my kicks, hoodies all lookin' for
Catch a rat nigga, leave his Bentley on bricks
Bloody ice-pick in the yard
Ten times outta ten, step to me and ya get scarred

outs in broad daylight, bustin' at feds
Dirty cops a ki of coke, bring 'em out dead
For my jail niggaz, stashin' bangers in they cots
For my grimy niggaz, hidin' under from cops

Empty the glock, hitchu disposable gats
you, wipe it off, throw it away, it's a rap
What nigga? I see you in the hood scrap
Turn ya Benz to a nigga, straight like that

Hold up, this is for my gangsta
And my dime little rockin' timbs and jeans
When it's on, know, we ain't to clap them things
In the club, bent, goin' crazy

Hold up, this is for my team
And my dime little mamis timbs and jeans
When it's on, know, we ain't to clap them things
In the club, bent, goin' crazy

up
South suicide Queens,
South suicide Queens,