Luyện nghe bài hát It Was Written [Explicit]

Six million to die
(Took a lot to get Rollie nigga)
Six million ways to get
(Huh, hah)

Everybody keep telling me "make a record"
You ain't no more, stop making drug records
You got a bout to come, stop making thug records
I brought that money back fast, I had the flexing
Welcome to Harlem, el Barrio, the drug section
Hit your bitch with my jeans on, ain't making love
I got love for my loco but I cuz reckless
I ain't sleep in the projects, I did enough stressing
My father was a rolling stone but taught me one
Do your by yourself, your friends be the ones telling
I knew it broke my mother's heart to her son selling
I had in my dresser, trifling as ever
I had a dream Biggie me on Life After
I be with my niggas, I don't really like rappers
Niggas can't make a song for nothing but they nice
Go and get a movie role, low bagging up rolls, raw shit
I come from a block where you seen it but never saw
I be at the juice bar, my wheat and bark shit
My just came from up north, he want to park shit
Tryna teach him something bout and how we started
Lower class poverty, homies from jail me
Playing the number but never hit the lottery
Liquor store on every corner, as well get drunk
I remember that free lunch wasn't shooting, we would jump
Niggas the end of the blunt, traps load up
I told I got him by the end of the month
I was thinking bout with the cinnamon guts
These blow your mind away, now your memory dust
And memory of, I got a JF buzz
Presidential called enterprise, I need rental
Tryna take a down to North Carolina
buy some Ferrigamo, I'm so focused on the commas

If you never been it's gon' be hard to feel me
Only get my flow, it's gon' be hard to kill me
They say make perfect, we at it every day
about that consignment, sometimes I never paid
It was I'm gifted, homie come learn something
Conversations bout homie, let's burn something
It was I'm gifted, homie come learn something
Conversations bout paper homie, let's burn

It's hard to stop what's in motion
I ain't gotta hit your blunt, I've already smoking
G Star denims on my Shmurda
In '08 my mental was really on murder shit
nothing was work enough
Just to pass the started working out
Me and my nigga Jay Black way back
He a Bronx nigga, met him in
Butch crib, met up with
Imagine Nas signed you, hell of a
pinch me
Promise nothing they say ever to me
Used to watch House Party, not kidding listen to me
This talk that make the hustlers want to open shop
This stash house talk, don't let 'em know the spot
This talk that got my city wanting to rap again
that all black everything like an African
This that middle of the summer in a trench
Glock 19 reminding them of how you been

If you never broke it's gon' be hard to feel me
Only Allah get my flow, it's gon' be hard to me
They say make perfect, we at it every day
Thinking about that consignment, sometimes I paid
It was written I'm gifted, homie come learn
Conversations paper homie, let's burn something
It was written I'm gifted, homie come something
Conversations bout paper homie, let's burn

I my way right up out the projects nigga
Put your to it, anything is possible haha
From a hole in the wall,
Now we in the presidential man
Top floor, flower for your bust
Harlem,