Luyện nghe bài hát Kick In The Door

Your reign on the top was short leprechauns
As I crush willies, thugs, and rapper-dons
Get in that ass, quick fast, like
Its that rap phenomenon Don-Dadda, Poppa
You got ta, me, Francis M.H. White
In tank-light totes, iron
Was told in shootouts, stay low, and firin
extra clips for extra shit
Who's next to flip, on that cat with that on rap
The mo shady, "Tell em!", Frankie
Ain't no telling I may be
May see me in D.C. at Homecoming
my man Capone, dumbing, fucking something
You know my steelo
Went ten G's for blow to thirty G's a show
To orgies with hoes I never before
So, Jesus, get off the
Penis, before I squeeze and
If the beef between us, we can it
the chrome and metal shit
I make it hot, like a get
You're delicate, you get, who sent ya?
You still pedal shit, I got rides than Great Adventure
Biggie, "How are you do it?"

Kick in the door, waving the
All you heard was Poppa hit me no more

Kick in the door, waving the
All you was Poppa don't hit me no more

Kick in the door, the four-four
All you heard was don't hit me no more

in the door, waving the four-four
All you heard was Poppa don't hit me no

On ya mark, get set, I spark, ya wet
how dark it get, when ya marked with death
Should I start your should I let you die
In you start to cry, ask why
Lyrically, I'm worser, front the word sick
You it, but rehearsed it
I drop like bird shit
You herbs get, stuck quickly for and show money
Don't forget the publishing, I punish em, I'm done them
Son, I'm surprised you run with
I think they got cum in them, cause they, but dicks
to blow up like nitro and dynamite sticks
Mad I smoke hydro rock diamonds, sick
Got pay off my flow, rhyme my own click
Take to Cairo, laying with yo bitch
I know you you was rich, fucking prick
When I see ya

Kick in the door, the four-four
All you heard was don't hit me no more

Kick in the door, waving the
All you heard was don't hit me no more

in the door, waving the four-four
All you was Poppa don't hit me no more

Kick in the door, the four-four
All you heard was Poppa don't hit me no

This goes out for that choose to use
Disrespectful views on the of NY
Fuck that, why try, bleach in your eye
Now ya Braille in it, stash that shit, or scalin it
Conscience of ya in eighty-eight
more powder than Johnson and Johnson
Tote like Bronson, vigilante
You want to get on son, you to ask me
Ain't no other in this rap thing
siblings, nothing but my children
One shot, disappearing
Its ill when, MC's used to be on cruddy
Took home, to Die, listened, studied shit
Now on some money shit, successful out the blue
They light weight, fragilly, my milly
Make the shake, that's why my money never funny
And you recouping, stupid