Luyện nghe bài hát Ladies N Gentlemen

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

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

Party people in the to be
Party people in the to be
people in the place to be
Ladies n gentlemen, bdb
A.k.a. you for the evening
By your people, he believin in fake
got plenty extra greevin, breathin
You know that I shall

I can't wait to get rid of y'all captain crunch on the mic
One hit wonders, of the under, i'mma bring the light
To make ya niggas out of the closet
You might to see me in the party, watch it
I set the flame, see the aim is
To burn the cane field, must remain real
Keep the steel
Bulletproofs the proof the streets is real
Two shots to the belly, now the feel ill
I take ya niggas right above the hill
And got the skill, one spliff
Two, three, spliffs, and make ya ball out
Everybody out, it's the black, that make you lay back in the cut
And ask "what the is that? " nigga chill, relax

I bomb first, no time for you to rehearse
When you hear the gunshots, nigga
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 owned you this? my niggas be
Had to make an example of and demonstrate
How we don't fuck 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 since I was fifteen, I was
Big clips and magazines, readin them and them
Put them in the bottom for the enemy to son shot him
Got him 'cause he want to be the talker and the big
he got hit, bump the fender
Now he's misdemeanor minded, always up in some petty shit
Til he got wit bd, now he ready, kid