Luyện nghe bài hát Hustlers

Dre, he a O.G
Nas, he a true G
Do the

Way before The Firm, like in the day
Nas was the first New York nigga with Dre
So of course I got a track to bring it to your face
The one kid that would've been Aftermath got away
But we still get together like every several
To sprinkle, a little bit of for your ears
Relax sippin' Cliquot in Rio, stupid
Low-key, know G's, but it's Gucci luggage
I Cape Cod, and watching fly bitches with grey eyes
in a tub of KY to get my day by
I like to celebrate, why? - I can vision
Collages and images of my lies with no to hate
So every breath I take, is all about the
hard for you to breathe like you at high altitude
So crack the Patron, it's on heathens, The God's
body, Mr. Jones never leaving

Hustlers, dealers, riders
Make that cake, cop two fivers
Pimps and players, platinum
East to West we riders
Hustlers, dealers, drop-top
Make that cake, cop two fivers
Pimps and players, platinum
East to Coast we riders

He a O.G
(Mix with a QB-QB true G)
(What you got's) A concoction of some ghetto blocks
(West Coast kill the tracks) East Coast
He a O.G
(Mix with a QB-QB true G)
(What you got's) A concoction of some ghetto blocks
(West kill the tracks) East Coast gunshots

1995, eleven from the day
I'm in the record shop choices to make
"Illmatic" on the top shelf, "The Chronic" on the left
Wanna cop but only got a twenty on me
So fuck it, I stole both, spent the on a dub sack
Ripped the package off "Illmatic" and bumped
For my niggas it was too complex when Nas
I was the Compton nigga with a "New York State of Mind"
the dope house bottlin' up sherm, bangin' The Firm
Dre was king then so I waited my
Fast forward, now I'm makin 'em
Ended my peers careers, at Nas, a hard lesson was learned"
So I reconciled my differences like he did with
I stopped beefin' niggas, cause I'm "Ether" to niggas
Comb the earth 'til there's no one
"If I the World" I summons all you weak rap niggas to death

He a O.G
(Mix that a QB-QB true G)
(What you got's) A concoction of some different ghetto
(West Coast kill the tracks) East Coast

Yo, the sportin'
Come off the dice game with a fortune walking, you a walking
The musket I tucked it, you bluff it I it
You're sideways talking, so I lay
I wait patient, to duct tape
ass niggas, get bucked ass niggas
Pluck ashes - of Cuban cigars, you fooling Nas
That's my and I came with Rugers this time
And if I'm sane that "Soul Plane" movie's the
Word to my mom's name to my arm
You can't me, embalm me, calm me or harm me
Rob me or dodge these I'm busting
See that's you yappin'
I open up the tripod to put the gatling on, and I start
Nasty man, from bagging and running from cops
To a mill' on the hand, a on the watch, I'm fucking with Doc

Hustlers, dealers, drop-top
that cake, cop two five fivers
Pimps and players, diamonds
to West Coast we ridin'
Hustlers, dealers, drop-top
that cake, cop two five fivers
Pimps and players, diamonds
to West Coast we ridin'