Luyện nghe bài hát Maybe If I Sing

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

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

(Sheek Louch)
Hey yo you got a half-assed flow
But fuckin with homey, all you get is half-assed dough
And where the fuck was you at big-ass face
When I was writin "Benjamins" with 'Kiss, and Ma$e
I ain't heard of you homey, 'til you up quick
But back then I'm pretty that you was on my dick (LOX nigga)
I dropped L.O.X., chest to chest, back to
On when, "If You Think I'm Jiggy" was whack
I wore shiny suits, niggaz knew I belong
But even back then I still never sang on a
I've been white-tee'd out (yeah) white haze and
It's fucked up, 50 makin wear that trash (yeah!)
he do, put your clothes on the bed, put your sneakers on the floor
and tell you hat to put on your head? (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) that's my (that's my nigga)
if 50 don't let you get bigger
I see you run stage wit'cha shirt off; you need some food
You 'bout as big as "The Passion of Christ"
And I still got love for the South
But I ain't respect no nigga with my dick in his mouth
G-Unit gon' be gone Dre bounce on you (G-G-G-G-G)
And fucked up cause Eminem tried to warn you
You ain't as big as these white dudes cut your check
Think so? and see who they go to next (D-Block)
You forgot about the scramps
Everybody ain't with bricks, some niggaz got gramps
No new guns, just shits that jam
Fuck it though, I'ma ride wit'chu do the
D-Block muh'fucker 'til there's no one
G-G-G-G-G-G... the fuck here!
(Yo in the hook son, bring in the hook)

(Chorus) the (ad libs)

D-Block!