Luyện nghe bài hát Kick In The Door

Your on the top was short like leprechauns
As I crush willies, thugs, and rapper-dons
Get in that ass, quick fast, ramadan
Its that rap Don-Dadda, fuck Poppa
You got ta, call me, Francis M.H.
In totes, tote iron
Was in shootouts, stay low, and keep firin
Keep extra clips for shit
Who's next to flip, on that cat that grip on rap
The mo shady, "Tell em!", baby
Ain't no where I may be
May see me in D.C. at Howard
my man Capone, dumbing, fucking something
You should my steelo
Went from ten G's for blow to G's a show
To orgies with hoes I seen before
So, Jesus, get off the
Penis, before I squeeze and
If the between us, we can settle it
With the chrome and shit
I it hot, like a kettle get
delicate, you better get, who sent ya?
You still pedal shit, I got more rides than Great
Biggie, "How are you do it?"

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

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

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

On ya mark, get set, I spark, ya wet
Look how dark it get, when ya marked death
I start your breath 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 unexpectedly like bird
You herbs get, stuck quickly for and show money
Don't forget the publishing, I em, I'm done with them
Son, I'm you run with them
I think they got cum in them, cause they, nothing but
Trying to up like nitro and dynamite sticks
Mad I smoke hydro diamonds, that's sick
Got pay off my flow, with my own click
Take trips to Cairo, laying with yo
I you praying 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 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

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

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