Luyện nghe bài hát Kick In The Door

Your on the top was short like leprechauns
As I so-called willies, thugs, and rapper-dons
Get in that ass, fast, like ramadan
Its that rap Don-Dadda, fuck Poppa
You got ta, me, Francis M.H. White
In tank-light totes, iron
Was told in shootouts, stay low, and keep
extra clips for extra shit
Who's to flip, on that cat with that grip on rap
The mo shady, "Tell em!", baby
Ain't no telling I may be
May see me in D.C. at Howard
With my man Capone, dumbing, fucking
You should know my
from ten G's for blow to thirty G's a show
To orgies with hoes I never seen
So, Jesus, get off the
Penis, before I and bust
If the beef between us, we can it
the chrome and metal shit
I it hot, like a kettle get
delicate, you better get, who sent ya?
You still shit, I got more rides than Great Adventure
Biggie, "How are you do it?"

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

in the door, waving 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

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

On ya mark, get set, I spark, ya wet
Look how dark it get, when ya marked with
Should I start breath should I let you die
In fear you to cry, ask why
Lyrically, I'm worser, don't front the word
You it, but rehearsed it
I unexpectedly like bird shit
You get, stuck quickly for royalties and show money
Don't forget the publishing, I punish em, I'm with them
Son, I'm surprised you run with
I they got cum in them, cause they, nothing 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 trips to Cairo, laying yo bitch
I you praying you was rich, fucking prick
I see ya I'ma

Kick in the door, 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 hit me no more

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

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

This out for those that choose to use
views on the King of NY
Fuck that, why try, bleach in your eye
Now ya Braille in it, stash that light shit, or it
Conscience of ya nonsense in
Sold more powder Johnson and Johnson
Tote steel like Bronson,
You to get on son, you need to ask me
Ain't no king in this rap thing
They siblings, but my children
One shot, disappearing
Its ill when, MC's used to be on shit
Took home, Ready to Die, listened, studied
Now they on some shit, successful out the blue
They weight, fragilly, my nine milly
Make the white shake, that's why my money funny
And you still recouping,