Luyện nghe bài hát Latin Throne

f/ Rylander

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

Uhh....one baby, yeah

Verse [SPM]:

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

[Marilyn Rylander]:
He's a

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

I got scars metal gates and sharp bars
We stars, runnin' from cop cars
Everyday you see me in a different car
The is ours, save my pennies in a pickle jar
So bizarre how so bullets miss my head,
I told my Mom, that I'm stick with this instead
the crack rock , I rapped and hit the jackpot
Now I'm on a plane writin' on my
all wiggy rockin' city to city
But I still my past catchin' up with me
Got ends, bought my Mom a Gold Benz,
But she worry 'cause I got all my old friends
that I slow up and change one day,
But these streets got me raised one way
I told my lady one day we be like the Brady's
But for now I teach her how to use three eighty

Third [SPM]:

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