Luyện nghe bài hát Live At the Tunnel

My outlet is of powerful niggas
ya tie, spark up the lah
Keep the dark, let me fill out my high
slap box my ghost till one of us cry

Jae to the Won can niggas around?
And better say nah, word to Allah
They dyin' I got iron now
Run upon 'em, cock it back, tie 'em

If he try to then I gotta lie him down
From Y O a.k.a. Town
I used to buy it but I supply it now
Y'all used to talk but you're all now

You know what it is that really makes it it
Have a lot of cars and the lot vacant
And you stop speakin' till I leave you on the cement
Leakin', all hot, none

Slow down, son, kill 'em
Okay, you can it to 'em
Everyday, just like J.
Sippin' iced in the E and J

Partyin', till bare remain
killin' 'em, okay you bring it to 'em
Everyday, just Mary J.
Honeys at the bar Alaze

Cru and Lox is your hair remain, I know you brailin' me,
Yogi's in the lead, trailin' me, baby
The PHd's compete mines is better than yours
Then we can take it to the streets, my rum's than yours

BX the attic sniffy chalk outline
And the clubs they mine, shit's about time
Chad and Mighty Ha, key the felon
When he make bell he eat more than Ellen
Who you

The world is mine like
If not, at a house and Esgro
ghetto stars into Uncle Tom's
Yogi, the low key

my crew is strictly Shark Bar
Champagne toastin' while you splittin' Bars
I'd rather be at The Tunnel with Flex
on the corner holdin' bundles, next

Y-O's to see the hunger in me
And I see the thing in niggas younger than me
Like live, they ain't got a slice to give
In the down home and they priceless kids

Why wouldn't it grab the gun, heist the
And the never learn until twice their bid
Like the world turn around clown money
Everybody laugh when they it

What about the addict niggas that'll for years
Till they see the up at the tip
Playin' spades, you in the and playin' sharades
If the jumped off you ain't touch a grenade

die for the cause? Lie for the doors
Niggas wanna but never took time to pause
Learned to and check the phat four
Try to plug it in they wanna up the chords

Yo, yo if you got the doe, B, show me
'Cause I'm these streets and no one know me
It's gon' change though, the ill strange flow
In the 9-8 push my a Range Rove

I keeps the real, from the fake
If I kill, yo, I'm so for the cake
go to a distant land
See my gun's like to a Christian man

It's the code of the streets no the explain
Free that soul on up to the plain
the pain, two shots from the flame
Remember the bloodstains, the wet rain

Little light guys with little lies
We takin' out and flippin' big white pies
You run wild with your 9 mil. slant
You watchin' too Stallone and Van Damme

Yo Lox, the fuck, what the fuck walked in here?
my crew at? Wave your shit in the air

Now bust 'em once for the niggas who with you
And jam above, muthaphuckin' love
We make cake but to make cake you batter
So it ain't kickin' that the beat ain't gonna matter

Lox and Cru, el to you
So if you want it you can get the 60 shot
Sheek that kid that spit out tobacco
Lyrically fucked out, a fit chips, we ducked out

Won't touch out if it ain't a 7 figure
Aye yo, Chad papa, that cranberry and vodka
Let's get flicks, spit on the niggas like
From Y-O to B-X y'all niggas C. S.

But we count the Benjamins and collect
My begets on my neck like I'm flex

Give 'em what they want, this what lookin' for
Y-O-G, and The Mighty Ha
Hit 'em in data once with buttah hits
Baby Chris with my peeps Mark Pitts

with the buttahs, production Y-O-G
Grab a chickenhead, lets crack the
Flows by the cause the styles pronto
Dayes ya go, ya go