Luyện nghe bài hát I Really Mean It

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It's all good, Killa cash flow
Increase my fame, that's why Killa smash
You'll get swiped, look at my life
movie ever, merked out Mekhi Phife

And Papi got jerked out of pies
Dip Set, we working with dice
Cee-lo and craps, C-notes and
I send bodies with, read note attached

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

Pissy little crying
upped man shit, there you seen it
(I mean it)
Fam man, you terry cloth, that you very soft
Mercedes, add the cranberry sauce

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

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

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

I gone get to hyped over you man
We bury you, holla!
See if you bout it, it
we is
(I really it)
NYC!