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 rappin' with Dre
So of I got a track to bring it back to your face
The one kid that would've been Aftermath that got
But we still get together like every years
To sprinkle, a little bit of Heaven for ears
Relax sippin' in Rio, stupid fuckers
Low-key, know G's, but it's still Gucci
I love Cape Cod, and watching fly bitches grey eyes
in a tub of KY to get my day by
I like to celebrate, - cause I can vision
and images of my lies with no regret to hate
So every breath I take, is all the rules
It's hard for you to breathe like you at altitude
So crack the Patron, on heathens, The God's back
Hard body, Mr. Jones never

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

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

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

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

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

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