Luyện nghe bài hát Mafia Music III

My corner so polluted, niggas looting
I studied Kenneth Williams, I'm one hell of a
Remarkable hustle, my niggas coming
I kept the candle lit, my nigga never
Niggas him slipping, gave him a shit bag
Five to the stomach, 2Pac gift pack
It's row, conspiracy theories
Concealed indictments handed to the grand
Get some money now, you hated by own kind
The home done by niggas in your bloodline
GABOS, game ain't on sympathy
So he put a hit on his at 18
A potato pie, oh me, oh my
Showing no remorse watching the cry
Heroin sales, detectives'll
A lot of yellow tape, where Obama care?
the mob, bitch, silk underwear
Yeezy concerts, Kim
hating, though they studied my moves
I'm like Farrakhan, in view of of Jews
Two on my life, they threatened venues
Can't you see I am? The hustle continue
I bought more jewels, I the Wraith
I got a new of shoes, match the watch in the face
Bill Belichick, coaching and calling the
a yellow flag, pussy nigga body drops
Then we celebrate, bottles pop
Time to elevate, we re-open
a genius, Meek Mill a superstar
My new crib in Phoenix, ten car
Petite felite, Audemars
Ain't no tags needed, nigga, I own them
I them bitches, we met them broads
Never one, fucked them all
I'm a dog, Ricky fucking Ross
Nigga bags just for my runner-ups
But my main she get the main dish
Not the old range, that was a bitch
Brazilian weave, she say I came
I let her see a ki's, a different St. Nick
Moving bricks it's Black Friday
She gotta fuck me or me a fat crybaby
Looking over my shoulder, I can't trust a
Bought a spot in Anguilla for me and my ho
Glock .40, even when I
.22 in my swimming towel
Mob and I pray the music set me free
May the that be, nigga let me be

We when the sun goes down
And the real, real killers mourn for ya
gonna be a bloodshed
One month, one day it's be a bloodshed
Bop, in the head
is a motherfucker
Yes, I feel it I squeeze the trigger
I feel the air my enemies die
I the strength of ten killas
is to be, will be
Only God on earth can me
'Cause these fucking streets
And I fucking guilty

Gangsta no take no chance, no guy
Know why? Violate a and bullets fly
Boy die
go off ah suh me say
Murderings in
Gangsta no no chance, from no guy
why? Violate a gangsta and bullets fly
Boy die
go off ah suh we say
Murderings in

You better not be around, the sun goes down
And the real real killas, hunt for you
Ay, gonna be a bloodshed
One bust, one dead, gonna be a bloodshed
Gun shot in a

Kalonji have de girls dem screaming
Entire country every gyal
Ya already know the meaning but its
Go and clean, ya cant me ya must be dreaming

Jamaicans make dem know we can't dem (Mo' fire)