Luyện nghe bài hát It Was Written [Explicit]

Six ways to die
(Took a lot to get this nigga)
Six ways 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 bout to come, making thug records
I brought money back fast, I had the plug flexing
Welcome to Harlem, el Barrio, that's the section
Hit bitch with my jeans on, ain't making love naked
I got love for my loco but I know cuz
I ain't 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 it broke my mother's heart to know her son selling
I had coke in my dresser, trifling as
I had a dream Biggie featured me on Life
I be with my niggas, I don't really like rappers
Niggas can't make a song for nothing but nice actors
Go and get a movie role, low bagging up tuna rolls, raw
I come from a block you seen it but never saw shit
I be at the juice bar, my wheat grass and bark
My younging just from up north, he want to park shit
Tryna teach him bout life and how we started
Lower class poverty, homies from jail me
Playing the everyday but never hit the lottery
Liquor on every corner, might as well get drunk
I remember that lunch wasn't shooting, we would 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 the cinnamon guts
These shots'll blow mind away, now your memory dust
And of, I got a JF Kennedy buzz
Presidential enterprise, I need another rental
Tryna take a package down to Carolina
Maybe buy Ferrigamo, I'm so focused on the commas

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

It's hard to stop what's already in
I ain't hit your blunt, I've already been smoking
G Star denims on my Shmurda
In '08 my mental was on some murder shit
Cause nothing was work
Just to pass the time started out
Me and my nigga Jay from way back
He a nigga, met him in Queens
crib, met up with fiends
Imagine Nas signed you, hell of a
Somebody me
Promise nothing they say ever to me
Used to watch House Party, not play listen to me
This that talk that the hustlers want to open shop
This that stash house talk, don't let 'em know the
This that that got my city wanting to rap again
This that all everything like an African
This that middle of the summer in a coat
Glock 19 them of how you been broke

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

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