Luyện nghe bài hát Ice Water

Intro: Ghostface

Hil' rockin ice niggaz
Tommy Hil' ice niggaz who fuck...
Mira,
a one on one to this shit y'all (yeah)
Get your clear (yeah)
Come on, sniff your out
All my Al Capone, Al Pacino (yeah)
Who's with drug smuggling
Cappadonna, Arms

One: Ghostface Killer

Yo, yo
Take out the rap kingpin, the black
I a few niggaz sniff coke, it cause seizures
to half-moon Caesars
and all the in the bleachers
Hot weather, sex on the
shopping out of the country
Deluxe luxury, saying dem not change
Look, me
But what about the Woman bracelet
Two-oh point three cut engraved rubies
Kid I it
My tooth gotta nigga throbbin, ready for robbin
But hit Maria's, for a butter almond
The bionic is stacked mechanic
Move like a bunch of Mexicans with
Son, it's on so we can just
I got the spot sewn, so we can make a
The tropical
Ladies call me fruit punch
Rainbow, niggas murder niggas for lunch
Peace to the Paris crew in the avenue, and my Jay Love
Who carries blades on the red roof

Verse Cappadonna

Yo, the first branch, the third leaf, whoever want it got
I politic, love, crush those who dare creep
Into my realm of I praise divine
line between dawn of dumb, deaf and blind
He ain't mine, he shook like the faggots on
Crossed over grain while we was bubblin
Sippin on the Moet, laid up,
Mastermind the plan, Starks, Cappachino
Develop while your head be swellin up all for the
Blinded by the ice while I the confrontation
holy fat bads of weed, ravioli
Pasta, Bodyguard the killa bee songs like Costner
Infrared all inside your bumba
Cappadonna pimped the derby like the

Interlude:

Yeah,
Eight spaghetti lame ass niggaz
Quarters, nickels, and bitch
Except for nigga
Any ass money be fine
Cause I'm coming strong, reaking niggas
Keepin real
If you haven't noticed this crazy ass rusty, ass
Let me tell you four times
Starks, Raekwon the chef
Cappachino and Arms
Is through mad strong
From the isles of
For all faggot ass
Rusty bitches too
Shump baby

Verse Three: the Chef

Yo back in the days, baggin crack, scrapin
Flippin cakes to them heavy head niggaz hatin
It be us, all the war's soldiers, in halls gettin over
City niggaz who for blood money rockin
Stay dipped, don't no money in your pocket
In the streets while these people mark money in their
Crack watch your back for jumps
before a fake twenty dollar bill
Get em son, we the one
Politickin, purse vickin, sick of these
good, had to shoot my way up out of Bennigans
That's life, to top it all off, beef for
pullin out tryin to throw it in my eyesight
Yo what the was on yo mind?