Luyện nghe bài hát In The Trunk

on
Where they at, they at, where they at

I sold tapes day me and Freddy B
famous since 1983
Give me ten dollars, and you get blessed
A rap all about you called the special
Oakland, you I go way back
To nuts, fal stangs, and cadillac's
When homeboys put on any car
With 6 by 9's smoking
Everybody got to my dopefiend beat
Whole town fucked and started smoking D
rap I ever made was about this town
I made 7 whole with no James Brown
And even though I love his music, I can't stand
The way used it all up and didn't pay the man
And after 2 platnum albums, you call me
Cause I sell records in the East
Now funky, I say pussy on an old hoe
I guess fools don't know
Why good rappers can't sell no tapes
not the company's fault, the shit sounds fake
You wanna be in the trunk, with the box
While the young bitches ride on jock
You can't do it like this homey, so pass it
And stop kissing them white folks
like you smoked a whole damn key
You rap so fast you leaving 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 play
And when I'm on the stage I pimping
And I hear your shit, I push eject
Then I throw it out the with the rejects
And when the hard core go soft
I to watch when they ass fall off
ain't nothing worth kicking like a sucka MC
And any other rappers ever about me
I stop rapping, that's all they can say
And how I dogg bitches, day
But if you can't be a dogg, then you're
You be phony like a side show
Some try to come off positive
Where I'm from that just how it is
They say rap music is to stay
But the sucka don't think that way
It 8 long years before I got my break
So I wonder why rapper's make ass tapes
You get paid like I did, so give up punk
And while your in the studio, I'm in the
You got no choice, so don't flip that
ain't the military, so you punks can't join
It ain't pop, called underground rap
Oakland California and the shit sounds phat
I'm spitting to my motherfucking 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, can't say to me
could never could fuck with Short baby
I'm not a tounge twisting rapper with a funny
Don't dress hip hop and dance wild
But I do sell like a motherfucker
Even though you might I'm just another
I find the beat and never switch
Grab the microphone and call you a bitch
You want rent money, I got money
One thing's for sure, I give it to a hoe
I throw a bitch in the god damn
And start slamming that Oakland
Short Dogg's in the house, once
Trying to fade the platnum, Shorty the Pimp
And I do, I'm going straight to the bank
Withdraw some money and buy dank
You can't relate to my motherfucking
That's why they to the one and only
I grew up on the called P
But these growing up on me
And if I ego trip, and my head is
I take my ass back, to I grew up
And get real boy, it's too late
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 down the block

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