Luyện nghe bài hát Let's Go

It's nigga. Believe it.
You hot? it. Hot as a firecracker.
(It's gravy too.) I got a mac in bag.
(click clock) you got? Glock. (Look)

Nigga I'ma ya straight off the bat
I got a mac in this bag with 20 of crack
And sit in the back seat of yo' 'Lac
Just in case I gotta snap, a firette to the
If I don't know shit, I cars and broads
I done ordered plenty and watched heads come off
And I done saw my nigga get life behind bars
To them dog hoes, nigga, we "fuck 'em all!"
I hard in these city streets
I got my on fire with my HB's
Spinnin' Benz in drop tops double r
Cook a brick, 'em up, now I got 'em hard
And you can me
up in them hallways, holdin' and totin'
Got the whole motherfuckin block and smokin'
Nigga know one thang: its some shit
If a nigga get it fucked, then we a bitch

Nigga I'ma ya this, straight off the bat
I got a mac in this bag, 20 grams of crack
Well go nigga, see we can slide nigga
'cause if you hot, then I'm hot, ride nigga
Look, I'ma tell you this, off the top
I got a blunt, and a glock, and a bag of
go nigga, let's slide nigga
If you hot, then I'm hot, let's nigga

Wayne]
Better pay attention now so you don't later
I run the damn block, I all of the paper
make me take ya, play ya
I cock the and spray ya
it a caper, won't be no as-salama-laka
And J, he got the gauges, cocked and ready
me run up in ya places and pop ya daddy
Got them bricks and heavy, let it be known
I cook it hard and cut 'em in and the money be gone
Then I hit a blunt to the dome, and ride when falls
Supply the white raw, if there's a problem, ya wife off
the spot down
Respect it young nigga, I'm creepin'
Now cut it with a little bakin' soda, breakin' boulders
I take it out my and bakin' soldiers whenever
Nigga it's whatever, tell ya ma to call the
You see me on the with crack, gats, and weed
Rats, plats, and ki's, practically me

[Lil
See I'm a hustler, cut-throat, put in mom's muffler
You can't count how many times the 9's bust at ya
Some of the, that you run with are, suckas bruh
of ya, won't leave, without some bullets up in ya
Niggas can't hold me down, wild
all that they can hear is loud screamin' and explosive sounds
They me how to cook that brown and rock that white
No school, put that book back down, up that knife
See the real reason I hate to be on tour
I'd rather be back on the block a bird of that pure
Niggas got it all wrong, I'm all song
But gon' twist it and end up all gone
cocksuckers, you not thuggers
I pop dozens of glocks, cousins, in my
So stop frontin', it ain't get ya everywhere
I'ma start bustin', and hit ya everywhere

x 2

[Baby talks end]