Luyện nghe bài hát Kick In The Door

Your reign on the top was short leprechauns
As I crush so-called willies, thugs, and
Get in that ass, fast, like ramadan
Its rap phenomenon Don-Dadda, fuck Poppa
You got ta, call me, Francis M.H.
In tank-light totes, iron
Was told in shootouts, low, and keep firin
Keep extra clips for shit
Who's next to flip, on cat with that grip on rap
The mo shady, "Tell em!", Frankie
no telling where I may be
May see me in D.C. at Homecoming
With my man Capone, dumbing, fucking
You know my steelo
Went ten G's for blow to thirty G's a show
To orgies with hoes I seen before
So, Jesus, get off the
Penis, I squeeze and bust
If the beef between us, we can it
With the chrome and metal
I make it hot, like a get
You're delicate, you better get, who 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 was Poppa don't hit me no more

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

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 it get, when ya marked with death
Should I your breath should I let you die
In fear you to cry, ask why
Lyrically, I'm worser, don't front the sick
You cursed it, but it
I drop unexpectedly bird shit
You get, stuck quickly for royalties and show money
Don't forget the publishing, I punish em, I'm done with
Son, I'm you run with them
I think they got cum in them, cause they, nothing but
to blow up like nitro and dynamite sticks
Mad I smoke hydro rock diamonds, that's
Got pay off my flow, rhyme my own click
Take trips to Cairo, laying with yo
I know you you was rich, fucking prick
I see ya I'ma

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 Poppa don't hit me no

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 Poppa don't hit me no

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