Luyện nghe bài hát House of Flying Daggers

He he he he, nobody is going to you now

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

I pop off a mobster boss
Angel hair with the lobster sauce, summertime can't top the
Check my hot broad, I the Porsche
F-B-I watch the force, trying to lock my source
Where I'm from, hear the macs, techs, and fours
Hide the safe, nigga, lock the
No respect for the and laws
In the land your own blood brother still plot for yours
Seen that'll drop your jaw
My soldiers got dropped in war, see the mural on the project
Won't til I copped them all
Wanna block me? You gots to brawl, tray and all
I ain't on the clock for talk
The Spot Rusher, down the spot for sure
Still off the block 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, reefer in the flicks, papi whoadie ride
Bolt his gun off, know your horse, she lied
Fly criteria, me in Africa
whips and spears, and rough diamonds out of Syria
A don, only I could do wrong
Rock hats, get crack money and drive a sick blue joint
Retard-less, I'mma regardless
is straight up live, I shank niggas up for larger E's
And speak 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 block or buying fresh sneakers with gwops
Yo, I'm an ill dude, been a real dude
fuck around, I will spill on you and kill you in the field, boo

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

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

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

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

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