Luyện nghe bài hát Low Income

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

To my people who don't go to work
God it's Friday
Cover me she's 'bout to put up her
Thank God Friday
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 wanna work on

I wanna thank my
For makin' me a before I had fast cars
And couldn't the difference between whoppers and caviar
Before the fame way things changed
All I to do was freestyle and get a name

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

What's goin on today to sell a song you need a video with soft
MC's in the you wanna tip?
Don't let them you like Goldy
And tell they better have my money
'Cause I play wit the and be like Lionel Richie
Low Income, I stay so hungry if 50 Cent came to rob me
be part of my charity
I, I wanna my hood

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

All the sing
I don't feel like you no breakfast
This
All my say
You don't to cook me breakfast
'Cause your girlfriend will you leave

I wanna my hood
For the love of money I know kids who'll slit throat
Friday the 13th wit a trench coat
But you scare Suzie
'Cause her man got so many uzi's you'd think he was

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

Inhale, exhale smoke
in the area, but ain't no need to panic
You wit Wyclef you in
If not, then we make CNN
I, I wanna thank my

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

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

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