Luyện nghe bài hát Maybe If I Sing

(Sheek Louch)
50 you a rat, you a coward, you a
You a bitch motherfucker now hear {*tch-tch BOOM*}
All you about is money and sales
What you need to talk about is all them niggaz that you put in jails
We don't dry snitch (nah) rappin and whisperin
Knowin that the rap police
Homey just what he doin, who career he swipe
That's aight, Ja got him, say goodnight (aight)
I'ma blast I go on the run
Just mad at Game cause he ain't like them, he ain't son (bitches)
50 this, 50 that; 50 whack (50 whack)
Nigga laid you down, when you gon' get him (woo)
And when you gon' say hot on the track? (never)
I guess the next you get hit'll be your back
A fucked up nigga, let me get wit'chu
I make sure don't hit you - ha ha

(Chorus)
Hey yo if I siiiiing, I'll be rich (should I sing?)
And maybe if I rat on you, I'll be (or maybe I should rat on you)
if I crossover, I'll be rich (I need to cross over I think)
I wanna beeee, I wanna be, just that 50 bitch (how can I be like that nigga)
if I siiiiing, I'll be rich (should I sing son?)
And maybe if I rat on you, I'll be (who should I give up?)
Maybe if I crossover, be rich (I need to cross over)
I beeee, I wanna be, just like that 50 bitch

(Sheek Louch)
Hey yo Banks you got a flow
But with homey, all you gon' get is half-assed dough
And where the was you at wit'cha big-ass face
When I was writin "Benjamins" with 'Kiss, Diddy and
I ain't heard of you homey, 'til you up quick
But then I'm pretty sure that you was on my dick (LOX nigga)
I L.O.X., chest to chest, back to back
On Clue when, "If You I'm Jiggy" was whack
I wore shiny suits, knew I didn't belong
But back then I still never sang on a song
I've white-tee'd out (yeah) white haze and hash
It's fucked up, 50 y'all wear that trash (yeah!)
What he do, put your clothes on the bed, put your on the floor
and tell you what hat to put on your (ha ha ha)
You muh'fuckers to me daddy
And I give a fuck if the doors lift up in your Caddy

(Chorus)

(Sheek Louch)
Go Young Buck (go Young Buck) my nigga (that's my nigga)
Even if 50 let you get bigger
I see you run around stage wit'cha shirt you need some food
You 'bout as big as "The Passion of Christ"
And I got love for the dirty South
But I ain't gon' respect no nigga with my dick in his
G-Unit be gone once Dre bounce on you (G-G-G-G-G)
And it's fucked up Eminem tried to warn you
You ain't as big as white dudes that cut your check
Think so? and see who they go to next (D-Block)
You about the hood scramps
Everybody ain't with bricks, some niggaz got gramps
No new guns, just them that jam
Fuck it though, I'ma wit'chu do the death
D-Block 'til there's no one left
G-G-G-G-G-G... the outta here!
(Yo bring in the son, bring in the hook)

(Chorus) the (ad libs)

D-Block!