Luyện nghe bài hát It Was Written [Explicit]

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

Everybody telling me "make a club record"
You ain't trapping no more, stop making records
You got a daughter to come, stop making thug records
I brought money back fast, I had the plug flexing
Welcome to Harlem, el Barrio, that's the drug
Hit your bitch my jeans on, ain't making love naked
I got love for my loco but I know cuz
I gotta sleep in the projects, I did enough stressing
My father was a rolling but taught me one lesson
Do your dirt by yourself, friends be the ones telling
I knew it broke my mother's heart to her son selling
I had coke in my dresser, as ever
I had a dream Biggie me on Life After
I be with my same niggas, I don't really rappers
Niggas can't make a song for but they nice actors
Go and get a movie role, low up tuna rolls, raw shit
I come from a where you seen it but never saw shit
I be at the juice bar, my grass and bark shit
My just came from up north, he want to park shit
Tryna him something bout life and how we started
class poverty, homies from jail calling me
Playing the number everyday but hit the lottery
Liquor store on every corner, as well get drunk
I remember that free lunch wasn't shooting, we jump stones
like the end of the blunt, traps load up
I told papi I got him by the end of the
I was thinking bout 550's with the guts
These shots'll blow your mind away, now memory dust
And memory of, I got a JF buzz
Presidential called enterprise, I need rental
take a package down to North Carolina
Maybe buy some Ferrigamo, I'm so on the commas

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

It's hard to stop already in motion
I ain't gotta hit blunt, I've already been smoking
G Star on my Shmurda shit
In '08 my was really on some murder shit
Cause was work enough
Just to pass the time working out
Me and my nigga Jay Black way back
He a Bronx nigga, met him in
crib, met up with fiends
Imagine Nas you, hell of a dream
Somebody me
nothing they say ever getting to me
Used to House Party, not kidding play listen to me
This that talk that make the hustlers want to open
This that stash house talk, don't let 'em the spot
This talk that got my city wanting to rap again
This that all everything like an African
This that middle of the in a trench coat
Glock 19 them of how you been broke

If you never been broke it's gon' be to feel me
Allah get my flow, it's gon' be hard to kill me
They say practice perfect, we at it every day
Thinking that consignment, sometimes I never 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 learn
Conversations bout paper homie, burn something

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