Luyện nghe bài hát In The Trunk

on
Where they at, where they at, where at

I sold every day me and Freddy B
Been since 1983
Give me ten dollars, and you straight get
A rap all about you called the request
Oakland, you know I go way
To nuts, fal stangs, and cadillac's
When put vogues on any car
With 6 by 9's smoking
Everybody got to my dopefiend beat
Whole town fucked around and smoking D
Every rap I ever was about this town
I 7 whole albums with no James Brown
And even though I his music, I just can't stand
The way they used it all up and pay the man
And after 2 albums, you call me weak
Cause I don't sell in the East
Now funky, I say pussy on an old hoe
I guess fools don't know
Why some good rappers can't sell no
It's not the company's fault, the shit fake
You be in the trunk, with the booming box
While the bitches ride on your jock
You can't do it like homey, so just pass it
And stop kissing white folks asses
like you smoked a whole damn key
You rap so fast you keep leaving the
I'm the old school, I love P-Funk
But now rap is all that they want
So when I'm in my car, I Clinton
And when I'm on the stage I pimping
And I hear your shit, I push eject
I throw it out the window with the rejects
And when the core rappers go soft
I like to watch they ass fall off
ain't nothing worth kicking like a sucka MC
And any other ever talk about me
I don't rapping, that's all they can say
And how I bitches, every day
But if you can't be a dogg, then weak
You be phony like a show freak
Some try to come off positive
Where I'm that just ain't how it is
They say rap music is here to
But the sucka don't think that way
It took 8 long years I got my break
So I wonder why make fake ass tapes
You won't get paid like I did, so up punk
And your in the studio, I'm in the trunk
You got no choice, so flip that coin
This ain't the military, so you punks can't
It ain't pop, it's underground rap
From Oakland California and the sounds phat
I'm spitting raps to my homies
why they listen to the one and only
I used to be broke, but now we all to be
Got no game for a bitch, all the is for me
And bitches, can't say shit to me
They never could fuck with Short baby
I'm not a tounge twisting with a funny style
dress hip hop and dance real wild
But I do sell like a motherfucker
Even though you might I'm just another
I the beat and then never switch
Grab the microphone and then you a bitch
You rent money, I got pimp money
One thing's for sure, I won't it to a hoe
I throw a in the god damn trunk
And start slamming Oakland funk
Dogg's in the house, once again
Trying to fade the platnum, with the Pimp
And when I do, I'm going straight to the
some money and buy some dank
You can't to my motherfucking homies
That's why they listen to the one and
I grew up on the funk P
But motherfuckers growing up on me
And if I ego trip, and my is fucked
I take my ass back, to I grew up
And get boy, it's never too late
Before I do like you and make a weak ass
I'm in the

In the trunk, in, in the
In the trunk, in, in the
In the trunk beating down the

In the trunk, in, in the
In the trunk, in, in the
In the trunk down the block