Luyện nghe bài hát Low Income

Let um feel the first
I'm 'bout to through your stereo
Should my rhyme start with the
Start the hook

To my people who don't wanna go to
Thank God Friday
me she's 'bout to put up her skirt
Thank God it's
Do mom now you act so berserk
Thank God it's
the track, what's the track girl?
She don't wanna, she don't work on Monday

I thank my hood
For makin' me a star I had fast cars
And tell the difference between whoppers and caviar
the fame way before things changed
All I to do was freestyle and get a name

I to work at the fast food restaurant
For wage dreamin I'm on stage
At 17 I left the house 'cause my father was a
And I didn't want the route

goin on today to sell a song you need a video with soft porn
MC's in the industry you wanna
let them pimp you like Goldy
And Sony they better have my money
'Cause I play wit the and be like Lionel Richie
Low Income, I stay so hungry that if 50 came to rob me
He'd be part of my
I, I thank my hood

To my people cuttin' in the shops
Thank God it's
To the thugs sweatin' up in the shops
Yo, Friday
To my people don't got no job
Everyday Friday
What's the track, the track yo?
She don't wanna, she don't wanna work on

All the ladies
I feel like cookin' you no breakfast
mornin'
All my say
You have to cook me breakfast
'Cause your girlfriend after you leave

I thank my hood
For the love of I know kids who'll slit your throat
Friday the Jason wit a trench coat
But you can't Suzie
'Cause her man got so many uzi's you'd think he was

Meanwhile, she's her nails done
clear so they could shine like wit diamonds
It's such a shame happened last week
Man they found her under the sheets a letter from the Son of Sam
It said to tell New I ain't sleepin'
You to be clubbin' then you better pack your heat in
And to my man G Rest in Piece
I still poor 1 draw on the cocoa leaf

Inhale, exhale smoke
Polices in the area, but no need to panic
You wit Wyclef you in
If not, then we gonna CNN
I, I wanna my hood

To my people who don't go to work
Thank God Friday
me she's 'bout to put up her skirt
Thank God Friday
Do your mom know you act so
God it's Friday
What's the track, the track girl?
She wanna she don't wanna work on Monday

Yo, to my cuttin' here in the shops
God it's Friday
To the sweatin' up in the chop shops
Yo, Friday
To my people who got no job
Everyday it's
What's the track, the track yo?
She don't wanna she don't wanna work on

All the sing
I don't feel like cookin' you no
mornin'
All my say
Well you have to cook me breakfast
your girlfriend will after you leave