Luyện nghe bài hát Ladies N Gentlemen

Party people in the to be
Party in the place to be
Party in the place to be
n gentlemen, he's bdb
A.k.a. you host for the
By your people, he believin in fake

A lot of y'all, you know it all
Want me to fall, but y'all the same niggas at the party on the
Askin shorty to dance, do she groove, no chance
She fuckin wit buck, I'm on the move, you
Stupid, wise up and get
See hardcore speakin is irrelevant
Teachin, I'm on the streets and
When I'm at a show I see my niggas is
The purpose, no am I nervous
I told you, you on me, I'm comin back to blow you
When I do this, don't act like it's a to you
If I shock you when you bow down, say
Now you can say you you was fuckin wit the general
But generally speakin, I didn't even you
But I your kind, I dealt wit the same mind
Saw the same plan, ended at the time

Party people in the to be
Party people in the to be
Party in the place to be
n gentlemen, he's bdb
A.k.a. you host for the
By your people, he believin in fake
Buck got plenty greevin, breathin
You know I shall proceed

I wait to get rid of y'all captain crunch niggas on the mic
One hit wonders, scared of the under, bring the light
To make ya come out of the closet
You might have to see me in the party, it
I set the flame, see the aim is
To burn down the cane field, remain real
the stainless steel
Bulletproofs the proof the streets is real
Two to the belly, now the body feel ill
I will take ya right above the hill
And got the skill, one spliff
Two, three, four spliffs, and make ya out
Everybody out, it's the black, that make you lay back in the cut
And ask "what the fuck is that? " chill, relax

I bomb first, leavin no for you to rehearse
you hear the gunshots, nigga disperse
Shit gets worse if you persist, and to diss, son, imagine this
The vocalist, every time I you this
You told me you knew in that I owned you this
What you this? my niggas be retaliate
Had to make an example of niggas and
How we don't around wit y'all
We might bring the pound for y'all, bust a at ya
Police put the up in the jar, for the evidence
Kid, ever I was fifteen, I was liftin
Big clips and magazines, readin them and them
Put in the bottom for the enemy to plead son shot him
Got him 'cause he want to be the and the big spender
he got hit, bump the fender
Now misdemeanor minded, always caught up in some petty shit
Til he got wit bd, now he ready, kid