Luyện nghe bài hát I Really Mean It

You see man, let's get off of that 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 something

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

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

Guns, really beaming, rarely miss, really good?
Bikes, wheelie and
(I mean it)
I'm a genius, poppadopalis, never
On your
(I really it)

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

Yeah, get lost in candy
I got in Boston, Austin
of course Miami
Reno, Nevada sip 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 abuse it, it's pain in music
But year, wrist wear remains 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 I just did, take a couple bars off
Let Just [unverified]

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

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

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

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

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

Ya fucked with boys in the hood
Gave her a son like Ricky, from Boyz in the
On the couch bloody, old lady
screaming
(I mean it)

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

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

Oh, pop something, roll
Get twisted, that's on Jim
(I mean it)
Harlem! Man we here to
nothing left to say man
(I mean it)

Eastside, and as for lame 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 ain't gone get to over you man
We bury you, holla!
See if you bout it, it
we is
(I mean it)
NYC!