Luyện nghe bài hát Mind of a Sick Nigga

(theyre all gonna at you)
(theyre all laugh at you)
(hahahahahaha)
(theyre all gonna at you)

the mind of a sick nigga.
With uzi clips,
heads in baskets,
Closed caskets. on wax.
Nigga, what it's all about,
what you bought the muthafuckin tape for.
on wax.
Redrum. on wax.
Nigga, I said, redrum, on wax.

Gotta get my prozac fore I go
And murda muthafuckas
Jumpin up out yo bushes in front a yo with a tech nine
in yo spine a flurry a bullets
Its killa s-p-i-c-e
A lot a these muthafuckas they wanna murda me
But cant fuck with that giggedy-giggedy-gangsta
The nigga thats leavin they body parts in dumpstas
Budda-bye-bye-bye feel them clot rastas
The niggaz who be out there catch some buckshots to them head
Pullin up four deep in an old caddy
auto-maddy
Empty the clip, niggaz like
In the alley, niggaz they cap
Pistol whippin muthafuckas, got some on my strap

(chorus)

What goes on in the mind of a sick
Them bloody bodies, down in the dirty river
What goes on in the of a sick nigga?
Redrum, professinal
What goes on in the of a sick nigga?
Them bloody bodies, face down in them dirty
What goes on in the mind of a sick
187, professinal

Im bailin up out the cut and niggaz they don't know what the fuck
Im laughin and blastin, asses in half an
Street sweepin niggaz up under the rug
they ass, makin they hooptie blow up when they crash
Zonin out that
Face down, back open, hopin they ain't no scopin
Witnesses they own smokin
See it no joke and nothing funny
Bustin caps in yo ass like yosemite sam and bunny
They all see my and then they fled
Im shootin these niggaz off in the backa head
off they legs
Talkin shit while they
Fuckin off they an
Hollow points keepin niggaz cold bodies fryin
I ain't no stranger to killin shit
You shoulda thought before you fucked this nigga you was dealin with
You see I mobs through the ghetto smokin blunts
game in the streets I grew up in
And the shit get funky I just get on up
And blow head off with a muthafuckin mac 10, bitch

Youll be outta muthafucka like ron goldman, chopped the fuck up
Aint no nigga livin alive survived
And had me caught up in some
Now who you tryin to fuck up in the
20 gaugell ripple your ass up like a can a ruffles
Im tryin to bubble like johnson and
With one in the chamber up an I load this with a 45 thompson
And we gon see if all that is true
Comin up out the bay, to be 187 proof
You see my with one hand up on my nutsac
Departin domes yellin out the muthafuckin mac
Its that red infa, nigga a hot temper
I got funeral date set up for next september
You gon be than livin presidents
'cause in a couple a secs your soul gon be checkin up outta it's
Bodies stiff christmas ornaments
Because the niggaz that a with me bein mo funk than parliment

You see I mobs through the smokin hash blunts
Stalkin game in the streets I up in
And when the shit get I just get on up
And blow your head off with a muthafuckin mac 10,

(nigga, you thinkin bout? )