Luyện nghe bài hát I Really Mean It

You see man, let's get off of lame man
get into what we like to do man
This we do preferably man
We that powerful music to your table man
Killa, let em know

Guru, Just Blaze, Killa, Diplomats, huh
Juelz Santana, Jim Jones, Zekey
Hoffa, Dash, huh, Killa, huh

Ya'll niggas dreamed it, I have it
Body warm, anemic
(I really it)
Coke, a steamed it, fiends I leaned em
Beemer it
(I really it)

Guns, really beaming, miss, what's really good?
Bikes, wheelie and
(I mean it)
I'm a genius, poppadopalis, leaning
On your
(I mean it)

Killa, bury mutts, they actually all ducks
Caddy more trucks, daddy Warbucks
And you Orphan Annie, ma, take off your
Sea soft and
(I really it)

Yeah, let's get in candy
I got in Boston, Austin
Flossin' of Miami
Reno, sip pina colada

Mama I'm on the Prada
(I mean it)
I rock more in Phoenix to glory
it, you seen it
(I really it)

The abuse it, it's pain in music
But this year, wear remains the bluest
I get lame and it, beef came to do it
Aim and shoot it, flames til brains the fluid
Ya'll just kids, see what I just did, take a bars off
Let Just [unverified]

Yeah, now that's music man
You need to pop something and something
(I mean it)
we did it man, I got your back forever, Dip Set
(I really it)

And them lames, we pop sideways
And drag faggots
(I really it)
Okay, we back in, listen
(I mean it)
Hey yo my garage, rock my massage
Fuck it, bucket by Osh Kosh

Golly, I'm gully, look at his
Gucci, gold, plaque collages
From collabos, writing for assholes
Want to use my brain, give Killa mad dough

It's all good, increase Killa flow
Increase my fame, that's why Killa smash
get side swiped, look at my life
First movie ever, merked out Phife

And Papi got out of pies twice
Dip Set, we with five dice
Cee-lo and craps, and stacks
I bodies with, read this note attached

Ya youngin' fucked with in the hood
Gave her a son like Ricky, from in the Hood'
On the bloody, old lady sighing
screaming
(I really it)

Pissy little baby
Fuck upped man shit, you seen it
(I really it)
Fam man, you terry cloth, that mean you soft
Gravy Mercedes, add the sauce

Yeah, gangstas man
Flex we got you, up
(I mean it)
And all my ladies man, the ghettos a
I need you, I you
(I mean it)

Oh, pop something, something
Get twisted, on Jim nigga
(I mean it)
Harlem! Man we here to
nothing left to say man
(I really it)

Eastside, and as for lame man
Now see I ain't even gone say your last
'Cause that's mine, I you, you know what it is
You faggot!

I ain't get to hyped over you man
We bury you, holla!
See if you it, bout it
we is
(I mean it)
NYC!