Luyện nghe bài hát Leave You Alone

I gotta leave, you alone
Wish I
I gotta leave the alone eventually right?
I don't

the hood, I would but it got Cam twisted
When Mikey gon' get that or them damn biscuits?
Mother still high, she so damn gifted
Like she got no though, she can't kick it

We can't kick it, my man dig it, I Van it
Wicked wiggle, the man wicked, rap was Cam's
But it backfired, air in the tires
Get for crack buyers, rap liars and trap wires

Thinking I'm awry, we I'm raunchy
"Menace II Society", think about Chauncey
The factor, now it's a big factor
Shit, life's a bitch ya shit for you pitch after

Get dada, Michelle home from school, her man slapped her
Kitch her, shot in the air, yeah, kids scattered
'Cause she joined a fraternity, the "Kappa"
He ain't like it, her, in the hood, bitch cracker

Now, Rich not, she of met a rich cracker
She get high, at McDees, they big mac'ed her
They'll train the fighters, gained arthritis
they train the buyers, we the cleanest can't indict us

He beat them cases up like Tyson '86
That's why it's I got a license for these 80 bricks
Crib, tried to the shit, agents on some hater shit
60k to rob the kid, them cases never made 'em

Yo, I can promise this, you dealing a Communist
That'll the trigger on any nigga who bomb a bitch
My accomplices, they remain
And they gon stay there, I swear, I'm what is

Honestly you thought I quit Tom Donnovich
Conglomerate, you like Ramadan honor it
won't eat, I'm unloading a lobster and pasta
Y'all imposters, imposing my posture, I

Mobsters choppers, enough "dado"
Chicks duct tape 'em, turn 'em over butt 'em
Grams cut, shave 'em, Cam hair cut, it
But on her hushes, like a lush Wes Craven

That's the hustle, I'm old school, you must 'em
Whatever love hate 'em, do, touch, play 'em
'em? talk slick, fuck it your all sick
Lay you in dog shit, look over you, spit

Beef on Bobby block, where his homeys walk
Homey we make bodies drop, then like Tony Hawk
Over short paper, a O for very long
"Fourth of July", M80's, cherry

They'll disguise the
Sent his for them ends, they had 'em like the Benz
His eyes was bugged, the don poke you
But for 4500, I will John Doe you, ya moms won't know you,