Luyện nghe bài hát Let's Go

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

Nigga I'ma tell ya off the bat
I got a mac in this bag with 20 of crack
And I'ma sit in the back seat of yo'
Just in case I gotta snap, a firette to the
If I don't know shit, I know cars and
I done plenty hits and watched heads come off
And I done saw my get life behind them bars
To them dog hoes, nigga, we "fuck 'em all!"
I hustle hard in these streets
I got my on fire with my HB's
Spinnin' Benz in these tops double r
Cook a brick, flip 'em up, now I got 'em
And you can me
Right up in 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, with 20 grams of
Well let's go nigga, see we can nigga
if you hot, then I'm hot, let's ride nigga
Look, tell you this, straight off the top
I got a blunt, and a glock, and a bag of
Let's go nigga, let's nigga
If you hot, I'm hot, let's ride nigga

Wayne]
Better pay attention now so you don't later
I run the damn block, I all of the paper
Don't make me ya, play ya
I the glock and spray ya
Call it a caper, won't be no
And J, he got the gauges, cocked and ready
Make me run up in ya and pop ya daddy
Got bricks rocked and heavy, let it be known
I cook it and cut 'em in zones and the money be gone
Then I hit a blunt to the dome, and when night falls
Supply the white raw, if a problem, knock ya wife off
Lock the spot
Respect it young nigga, I'm creepin'
Now cut it with just a 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 rhymes in muffler
You can't count how many times the 9's bust at ya
Some of the, niggas you run with are, suckas bruh
None of ya, leave, without some bullets up in ya
Niggas hold me down, wodie wild
'cause all that they can hear is loud 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 that's the reason I hate to be on tour
I'd be back on the block with a bird of that pure
got it all wrong, thinkin' I'm all song
But yall twist it and end up all gone
cocksuckers, you not thuggers
I pop of glocks, cousins, in my struggle
So stop frontin', it ain't gon' get ya
I'ma bustin', and bullets hit ya everywhere

x 2

[Baby talks end]