Luyện nghe bài hát Intro - Hand It Down

Sorry
But all the money in the world can't bring me back
Lay down, lay
stretch my mic out in Ponce funeral home on Marcy
All those new niggaz stop
But a lot later than a whole gang of thought
The last of the real hustlers, maybe not the last
Bleek's gonna be a good rapper, new, improved

I quit, I'm
Ain't enough in this game, to keep me around
Sorry big, I tried
Can't go me on this ride though
I'm the shots, the bar's closin'
Where we goin' to for
Roc a y'all
Okay, I'm

Bringin' the drama, tryin' to come up in the

Had a couple of dollar to my name
Roc a Fella
One of the
Waitin' for my day to
Just give me the

Nah, this ain't Jigga, it's your lil' Bleek
Reportin' to these motherfuckers live from the
Game I peeped those, my so advanced
At nine I used to hoes for Easter clothes

Peep the steez, I represent for all those with twenty grams
On a come up, tryin' to creep the
niggaz told me park the car, keep the keys
Find a hoodrat and creep to D's

gun two bullets, niggaz know I do pull it
Niggaz tryin' to kill me dog, who
Gooden, I pitch in the PJ's
Lit off the EJ, I split Dutchies with my ring

You a bitch that don't be cream, bring her
Last seen with Bing, he got dropped us
Shit is constant, that's why I pack the Johnson and
For the who wants it?

I go to sleep with a picture of a on my wall
Man I'm tryin' to up on y'all
Get one up on y'all, why I hustle in these streets
From sundown to sunup on

Mama said, "Keep bullshittin', kill you dead"
One week of hustlin' brought a livin' room set
to Tom D's, niggaz mad, veins out
Copped the Jordans, two weeks before came out

Flashy, fly little
bitch from the third floor like, "Why little nigga?"
Bitch please, twist the trees, took a long pull, bitch to breathe
That's my answer, life's like cancer and I'm

Waitin' for my day to
Just me the word