Luyện nghe bài hát It's Good

I'm as real as they come, I the rules
I'm still in the but I probably should move
Made money, I don't f-ck around
I felt they needed me, so I stuck around
Feds got my man, shit is son
Cause my god son just became my son
Think is a game but all you get is a turn
You and you learn, either you freeze or you burn
Kush in the air, I'm pushing the
Love turned into hate, turned into fear
If it aint right, I don't the deal
Shoot me in the watch, I got to kill
Gasoline, propane, no salary cap in the dope game
Aint no collective bargaining on
So in words nigga, do your thing

Mind in one place, in another
Please my brother
He's just angry at you niggas who dont your heart in your rap shit
And got too f-ckin comfy, cause we still f-ckin
Money, got the munchies
Faded, faded, aww yeah im f-ckin faded
They tellin' lies about me, aww yeah i must've it
Rikers Island on this flow, 8 for that pistol
But at least they had some bad workin' in that shit hole
Ahhh, 3 visits later, I and did it major
So the judge, and the jury, and the litigator
Watchin all kids who thought they had it figured out
And then came, they let my nigga out

[Lil
playin, I aint with that bullshit
Niggas act like bitches. Shanaynay, oh my
This is World, and y'all are just some tourists
me three wishes, I wish, I wish, I wish, you would bitch
Brand new p-ssy, good as baby powder
Two glock 40s, you got 80 problems
Swimmin' in the money, Imma some f-ckin goggles
Its better to give, but we dont give a about 'em
I just came home, shit got real hoe
Lil Weezy-ana, the nigga, steal toe
I workin with a full deck but I deal hoe
I just touched down, the motherf-ckin field goal
Talkin 'bout baby money? I got baby money
Kidnap your bitch, get that 'how you love your lady' money
I know you fake nigga, press your brakes
I'll take you out, that's a nigga
Im a ass blood, stop playin with me
asshole and get an ass whippin'
I think you cat ha, hello kitty
I just throw the alley-oop to Griffin
I lay em down,
This shits a of chess, you niggas think its cleavage
Its young money, yeah the season
I give you the business, bitch this a meeting
My niggas hungry, my greedy
Will I die a bloody murder? Dear Mr.
Nigga, Im straight, my a faggot
on the barrel, pop pop tater salad