Luyện nghe bài hát House of Flying Daggers

He he he he, nobody is going to 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
hair with the lobster sauce, summertime can't top the scorch
Check my hot broad, I the Porsche
wanna watch the force, trying to lock my source
Where I'm from, hear the macs, techs, and fours
the safe, nigga, lock the doors
No for the cops and laws
In the where your own blood brother still plot for yours
Seen things drop your jaw
My soldiers got dropped in war, see the on the project wall?
Won't stop til I copped all
Wanna block me? You to brawl, tray shots and all
Cause I ain't on the clock for
The Spot Rusher, blow down the spot for
Still break off the with raw, my stock is more
The General, watch your

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

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

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

Leather jackets on, up rock stars
Treacherous robbers, the plan gold up, we pop guards
The team eat, seeds is hungry, that's why we ain't scared
To dump on niggas, our is chunky
Usually we bust niggas down bats, swell up they joints
Elbow, wrists, they shins get
We still humiliate, brutalize, pop, pulverize
got gear in the closet, that's stupid live
From Benetton rugby skullies, Oshkosh conductor
The train hats fit me
Rae job is to sure the coke is fluffy
While I politic his birthday with Puffy
Nia soon as I linked up, the kid ain't inked up
I'm an old mummy, my weigh as much as King Tut (yeah, yeah)
Slippers, is minked up, under the doo-rag, bro (uh, yo, yo)
My dimensional fade is clean cut

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

He he, your kung fu is no good
You move fast enough
And you don't have enough
And body movements are like a string climb
too easy for me to trip you up

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