Luyện nghe bài hát In The Trunk

on
Where at, where they at, where they at

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