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 fuck
And better say nah, word to Allah
They dyin' down I got now
Run 'em, cock it back, tie 'em down

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

You know what it is that really makes it it
Have a lot of cars and the lot vacant
And you won't stop speakin' till I leave you on the
Leakin', all hot, eatin'

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

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

Cru and Lox is your hair remain, I you brailin' me, baby
Yogi's in the lead, you're trailin' me,
The PHd's can't compete mines is better than
Then we can take it to the streets, my rum's than yours

BX where the sniffy chalk outline
And the clubs they shout mine, shit's about
and Mighty Ha, key the predicate felon
When he bell he eat more booty than Ellen
Who you

The is mine like Esco
If not, at least a and Esgro
Turnin' ghetto stars Uncle Tom's
Yogi, the low key

Understandin' my is strictly Shark Bar
Champagne while you splittin' Clark Bars
I'd rather be live at The with Flex
Then on the corner bundles, next

time to see the hunger in me
And I see the same thing in niggas younger me
Like they live, they ain't got a to give
In the broken down and they priceless kids

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

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

die for the cause? Lie for the doors
Niggas play but never took time to pause
Learned to remind and 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 walkin' these and no one know me
It's gon' though, with the ill strange flow
In the 9-8 my a black Range Rove

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

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

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

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

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

Lox and Cru, el to you
So if you it you can get the 60 shot pronto
Sheek kid that spit out like tobacco
Lyrically out, a fit ain't chips, we ducked out

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

But we count the and collect Che-X
My begets shine on my neck like I'm

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

Comin' with the buttahs, production
Grab a chickenhead, lets crack the
Flows by the Gods cause the pronto
ya go, dayes ya go