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 bring that powerful music to table man
Killa, let em something

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

Ya'll niggas it, I have seen it
Body warm, anemic
(I mean it)
Coke, a nigga steamed it, I leaned em
leaned it
(I mean it)

Guns, really beaming, rarely miss, what's really
Bikes, and creamin'
(I mean it)
I'm a genius, poppadopalis, never
On your
(I mean it)

Killa, bury more mutts, they actually all
Caddy more trucks, it's Warbucks
And you Annie, ma, take off your panties
Sea and sandy
(I mean it)

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

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

The game abuse it, pain in music
But this year, wrist wear the bluest
I get lame and lose it, beef to do it
Aim and shoot it, flames til your the fluid
Ya'll just kids, see what I just did, take a bars off
Let Just live

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

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

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

It's all good, increase 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 five dice
Cee-lo and craps, and stacks
I send bodies with, read this attached

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

Pissy little crying
Fuck upped man shit, there you it
(I really 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 you, I want you
(I really it)

Oh, pop something, something
Get twisted, on Jim nigga
(I really it)
Harlem! Man we to stay
It's nothing to say man
(I really it)

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

I ain't gone get to hyped you man
We gon' you, holla!
See if you it, bout it
we is
(I really it)
NYC!