Luyện nghe bài hát Live At the Tunnel

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

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

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

You know what it is that makes it scrape it
a lot of cars and the lot still vacant
And you won't stop speakin' I leave you on the cement
Leakin', all hot, none

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

Partyin', your bare remain
You're 'em, okay you bring it to 'em
Everyday, just like J.
Honeys at the bar Alaze

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

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

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

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

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

Why it grab the gun, heist the crib
And the learn shit until twice their bid
Like the world turn around funny clown
Everybody when they have it

What about the addict niggas hustle for years
they see the graveyard up at the tip
Playin' spades, you in the and playin' sharades
If the wait jumped off you touch a grenade

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

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

I keeps the real, separate 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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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