Luyện nghe bài hát Hustlers

Dre, he a O.G
Nas, he a QB-QB G
Do the

Way before The Firm, like in the day
Nas was the first New York nigga rappin' Dre
So of course I got a track to bring it back to face
The one kid that would've been that got away
But we still get together like every several
To sprinkle, a little bit of Heaven for ears
sippin' Cliquot in Rio, stupid fuckers
Low-key, know G's, but still Gucci luggage
I love Cape Cod, and watching fly bitches with grey
in a tub of KY to get my day by
I like to celebrate, why? - cause I can
Collages and of my lies with no regret 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
Hard body, Mr. never leaving

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

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

1995, eleven from the day
I'm in the record with 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, the twenty on a dub sack
Ripped the package off "Illmatic" and that
For my niggas it was too complex when Nas
I was the only Compton nigga with a "New State of Mind"
Inside the house bottlin' up sherm, bangin' The Firm
Dre was king then so I my turn
Fast forward, now I'm 'em burn
Ended my peers careers, hollered at Nas, a hard was learned"
So I reconciled my like he did with Jigga
I stopped beefin' niggas, cause I'm "Ether" to niggas
Comb the earth 'til there's no one
"If I Ruled the World" I summons all you weak rap niggas to

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

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

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