Luyện nghe bài hát I Really Mean It

You see man, let's get off of lame man
Let's get into what we to do man
This what we do man
We bring powerful music 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 dreamed it, I have seen it
Body warm, anemic
(I really it)
Coke, a nigga steamed it, fiends I em
leaned it
(I mean it)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

all good, increase Killa cash flow
Increase my fame, why Killa smash hoes
get side swiped, look at my life
First ever, merked out Mekhi Phife

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

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

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

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

Oh, pop something, something
Get twisted, that's on Jim
(I really it)
Harlem! Man we here to
It's left to say man
(I really it)

Eastside, and as for lame 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 get to hyped over you man
We gon' you, holla!
See if you bout it, it
we is
(I really it)
NYC!