Luyện nghe bài hát House of Flying Daggers

He he he he, is going to save you now

Soldiers in the front, let the pump
Troops on the left, to the death
Fam on the right, infrared
in the back, ready to attack
Soldiers in the front, let the heat

I pop off like a boss
Angel hair with the lobster sauce, summertime can't top the
my hot broad, I dropped the Porsche
F-B-I watch the force, trying to lock my source
I'm from, hear the macs, techs, glocks and fours
Hide the safe, nigga, the doors
No respect for the cops and
In the land where own blood brother still plot for yours
Seen things that'll drop jaw
My soldiers got dropped in war, see the mural on the project
Won't til I copped them all
Wanna block me? You to brawl, tray shots and all
Cause I ain't on the clock for
The Spot Rusher, down the spot for sure
Still break off the block with raw, my is more
The General, watch board

Deep pockets the eight on me, sleep with the safe in the wall
The cameras on the make-up and all
Swap six 45's, twist reefer in the flicks, papi whoadie
his gun off, from know your horse, she lied
Fly criteria, bury me in
whips and spears, and rough diamonds out of Syria
A don, only I could do wrong
Rock fitted hats, get crack money and a sick blue joint
Retard-less, I'mma blow
Resume is straight up live, I shank up for larger E's
And with the youth in the spot, eat the fresh fruit in the crop
All these hip eat cock
You can see me in the or the yacht
I'd rather be promoting your block or buying fresh sneakers with
Yo, I'm an ill dude, been a real dude
Don't around, I will spill on you and kill you in the field, boo

in the front, let the heat pump
Troops on the left, fight to the
Fam on the right, lights
in the back, ready to attack, for what

Soldiers in the front, let the heat
on the left, fight to the death
Fam on the right, infrared
Wolves in the back, ready to attack, for

Leather jackets on, rocked up stars
Treacherous bank robbers, the gold up, we pop guards
The gotta eat, seeds is hungry, that's why we ain't scared
To on niggas, our guns is chunky
Usually we bust niggas with bats, swell up they joints
Elbow, wrists, they shins get
We still humiliate, brutalize, pop, pulverize
Still got in the closet, that's stupid live
From rugby skullies, Oshkosh conductor jumpers
The hats fit me lovely
Rae job is to make sure the is fluffy
While I politic his bash with Puffy
Bagged Nia soon as I up, the kid ain't inked up
I'm an old mummy, my gold weigh as as King Tut (yeah, yeah)
Slippers, robes is minked up, the doo-rag, bro (uh, yo, yo)
My three dimensional fade is cut

Man, ya niggas shit to us, still a pistol bust
Split melon like I split the Dutch
Got a lot of piff to puff, and I ain't for fisticuffs
Or for the cop that clip the cuffs
Man, is Staten in this bitch or what, get it twisted, we
Twist it up and even mixed with
See fans can't resist the rush, they Wu-Tang for life
Scarred for life, they can't forget the
Got a whole of classic joints, and while you at it
Pass the joint, let's push this music past the
Of no return, til they crash and burn, down the
Then placed inside Ol' Dirty urn
When it's my to go, for sure, ya nigga goes to war
What you think I brought these soldiers
To send shot forget me not, at any nigga
Respect, bitch, that they goin' get me got

He he, your basic fu is no good
You can't fast enough
And you don't enough strength
And your body movements are like a string
It's too easy for me to you up

He he he, how's it feel,
It's no fair, I'm afraid my back is
Ha ha ha, you still got a lot to