Luyện nghe bài hát It's On, On Sight

(*Screeching tires, gunshots, glass, sirens and screaming*)
(3x)

They want soon them want me waxed, contracts on my ass
It's comin from the pen, say I owe 'em cash
Dwellin off the past and need it fast
But what they fai'lize is be quick to blast
Die hard cold blooded all about my work
Dressed up a female in a mini-skirt
in doin dirt - shootin niggaz in the shirt
Put the pistol in his and make it hurt, ooh
Cutlass, guzzlin down a 40-ounce bottle of malt liquor brewsky
talkin to a cutie standin the movie theater
sittin on top of the hood of my
Smokin on a non-filter pink pack colored edition
Clove-family affiliated stick lookin +GANESH+ beadie
What the fuck? W the peace treaty?
Full of my Wheaties, yes indeedy, M-16's don't shoot no
Programmed to anything that gets off in my way
Then I put them same size left bullets up in my A.K.
I can't wait 'til we heads

It on, on sight day and night no matter I'm dumpin'
I'm tryin to see you niggas somethin' (2x)

"I'm heated, them cheated" - 3X (in background)
We had a meetin', shit 'posed to been (3x)

Shit was 'posed to squashed

I've got a hunch; me at the Olive Garden spot let's do lunch
Fool and dem tried to pass the buck and set us up for
Sons of bitches must think we chumps
Time to break out the pipe and the pumps

Nigga fuck stress and pull lick, we kick in the door with clips
Out of packin when we blast 'em we all out for the chips
FOol, 40-Water never slip, saw the quick and then dipped
we spark the pipe bombs, and blow them niggaz shit to
side-ways up off block, poppin gears in a big block
All out non stop riders until our drop
We smashin, on any, while I remember many
Dash and double two-three's, fuck the enemies

One of my big dudes up out HPA shot me a kite
He up in Bay three striker
Doin 25 with a L cause he won't on one of his
high-ranked in position who wears a diaper
With the shit stacked on the side of his
blood splattered all on the wiper
Somebody tried to take his face - him up in his Viper
Loose as a ass out tried to down him like a sniper
hyperventilated started havin'
No in his legs, arms, or his sneakers

We stand tall, like Manute Bol bigger balls than RuPaul
with 4-4's down to execute all y'all
Don't to see us niggas on a mission
150 round drum 45 slugs
No remorse hit by the fo' sho'
Leave him stuck in his seat
70 through his front window
Ain't no with G's
Fill 'em up to they neck from they
Leave 'em dyin' in the as we escape on they goldeeze