Luyện nghe bài hát Mo' Mail

Ah, it
Ah, y'all got nigga E-40 in this motherfucker
I buzz, I put a step in kickin' it in the Fac house,
Ay, G-Nut, Spice,
Let 'em it

Went out the house, I think it was a
Nigga was runnin' drop top drop, havin' a fun day
it with my niggas up on the block
Talkin' shit, drinkin' Eye'

I got the fat head rush from the chocolate
I'm good, I wanna kick it and hang out
But when the drive-by hit, this is the main
What the fuck is my nigga?

I got a glock, seventeen gobble them
So, why should I trip, the clip, put the joint to my lip
Get the motherfuckin' forty take a ass nigga hit

I'm sittin' on my gat thinkin', is cool
niggaz roll up in an old school
I trippin', ay, you know this nigga's face
I heard the motherfuckin'

Of a sawed off shotgun, hand on the
Musty dead bodies and a catty bump,
Smellin' up the neighborhood, lyin' in the
Somebody had mo' than the rest of the pushers

Yeah, I'm just a
Yeah, I'm just a
Yeah, I'm a hustler

Spice 1, you know some hoes go, boy
Look here, ay look,
They got and scandals out there right?
When that funk is on, this

Check fan, the gotta be about
As greasy as gravy in order to
So, is a motherfucker, ain't it?
Ay, whatta 'bout those niggas on your nigga?
Ice spit some shit about shit, nigga

Get off my dick, nigga, get your own
Steady mobbin' gaffle the motherfuckers 'cause my
Shootin' up motherfuckers was my
the tech-eleven on two-eleven, I did a robbery

Shot the mothefucker, is grenades that be livin'
Lowin' the motherfuckers a new pair of Levi's and
Used to the cops were so motherfuckin' friendly
Till they tied my cousin to a chair and broke his

My homies motherfuckin' head like a
Slavery is of convicted felon
So, dear Mr. Officer of the law
Rodney Kind need a trial, what was seen was what was saw

You could take the niggas up out the ghetto
But you can't take the ghetto up out the motherfuckin'
Can't you the voice of the niggas comin' at cha?
Fuck you Mr. President, I I wanna gat ya

I need mo' mail than the rest of the
Mo' mail than the of the piles

I can't get enough, good,
Good shit, motherfucker, shit
I think, I'm a jet drunk motherfuck
Ay, here, ay, I'm off this Liquorice Rainall, boy
You understand don't ya? Huh, you feel it
Ay, ay look nigga, ay
What I want you to do, boy, drop ill shit

I'll make gat sing like motherfuckin' Mary J. Blige
And reminisce on havin' a nigga's last breath he slowly die
Stang his ass in the chest with the
Capped him in his thr-thr-throat, so he can't

R-a-rat, t-a-tat put a buck in
The six-foot chucky dog
Comin' to play with the of the AK
real ass nigga from the East Bay

For the niggas who kid yourself by losin' fuckin' death
Bloaw, bloaw, cap, we do it just that
to put a motherfucker brains in his lap
Smokin' up a as I reminisce

Of bloody body bags a motherfucker nutty
Bloaw, boaw, Po' bust a route
Brown, notify his family, it, send his fingers home
'Cause the get major, put the [Unverified]
Number his pager

Bitch, fuck with me
I know a gang of niggas that will it up with me
I need mo' mail than the of the pushers

the S P I C E with ya, nigga, E-40
(Erick Sermon)
Roll in to the and die
These don't understand this shit, boy

This shit is so real, man
Ay, ninety-tre-four-five
Ay, I got one of

Mo' mail than the of the pushers
Mo' mail than the rest of the
Mo' than the rest of the pushers
Mo' mail than the rest of the

Mo' mail than the of the pushers
Mo' mail the rest of the pushers
Mo' mail than the of the pushers