Luyện nghe bài hát Let's Go

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

Nigga tell ya straight 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 know shit, I know cars and broads
I done ordered hits and watched heads come off
And I done saw my nigga get life them bars
To dog hoes, nigga, we scream "fuck 'em all!"
I hustle hard in city streets
I got my block on fire with my
Spinnin' in these drop tops double r
a brick, flip 'em up, now I got 'em hard
And you can me
Right up in them hallways, and totin'
Got the whole motherfuckin block and smokin'
Nigga know one its some uptown shit
If a nigga get it fucked, then we a bitch

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

Wayne]
Better pay attention now so you forget later
I run the damn block, I all of the paper
make me take ya, play ya
I cock the and spray ya
Call it a caper, be no as-salama-laka
And J, he got the gauges, they and ready
Make me run up in ya and pop ya daddy
Got them rocked and heavy, let it be known
I cook it hard and cut 'em in zones and the be gone
Then I hit a blunt to the dome, and when night falls
Supply the raw, if there's a problem, knock ya wife off
Lock the spot
Respect it nigga, I'm creepin' over
Now cut it with just a little soda, breakin' boulders
I it out my holster and bakin' soldiers whenever
Nigga it's whatever, tell ya ma to call the
You see me on the block crack, gats, and weed
Rats, plats, and ki's, that's me

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

x 2

[Baby talks end]