Luyện nghe bài hát Latin Throne

f/ Rylander

Ain't no stoppin' this movement...gotta roll it

Uhh....one time baby,

First [SPM]:

Land of dum-dum, is where I come
Believe me I tell you that you don't want none son
A long, road for this, latin throne
You can catch me in the in the, back alone
So, don't let your babies grow to be gangstas
Killas to not give a fuck, hit em up with sign language,
I'm explainin' how the game is
Reach for the stainless, 'em brainless,
The strangest of come to me at no surprise,
all my allies, I run with bad guys,
Fuck pea shooters, all my gats are
I got seven dopehouses, a franchise
Man cries if he was with a heart,
But I lost mine, in the of South Park
again it's Mister SPM,
And the shit ain't gonna stop until I'm or in the pen

Chorus Rylander]:
a hustler

He's a
He on the
Throne
He on the
He's a
He's a
Verse [SPM]:
Latin

I got jumpin' metal gates and sharp bars
We shootin' stars, runnin' cop cars
you see me in a different crackhead's car
The hood is ours, save my pennies in a jar
So how so many bullets miss my head,
I told my Mom, that I'm gonna stick with this
the crack rock , I rapped and hit the jackpot
Now I'm on a writin' on my laptop
It's all rockin' city to city
But I still feel my past up with me
Got more ends, my Mom a Gold Benz,
But she worry I still got all my old friends
Hopin' that I slow up and one day,
But these streets got me raised one way
I told my lady one day we gone be the Brady's
But for now I teach her how to use three eighty

Third [SPM]:

Three years and countin', I've drinkin' from the music fountain
Who you doubtin'? This is comin' out the South
The sits in Houston like a fuckin' mountain,
I got non-believers with they foot in mouth
I guinesses, keep 'em off my premises,
Used to be menaces, now our dreams
Isn't a trip? Not a slipper or a sleeper,
Niggas wantin' dope still up my beeper
But we can overcome the even G's without a mother,
Bread without butter, I came crawlin' out a
Born hustler, used to an old gas guzzler,
Servin' zombies, a as big as Gandhi's,
Fresh out the hood I was dope last summer
Now I'm donkey dickin' and Blondies
Jammin' Jon B., bottles of Don P.,
The day of the Wetback has striked thee