Luyện nghe bài hát Mr. Fuck Up

* (NOT Cash Money -- MC brother)

My niggaz me Grinch and yes I'm known to be a fuck up
Loaded clip, folded sticks, my lifts and double up
Put my stick so nigga feel my pockets the dollar
'Cause they rock keep the stock in a private parlor
Grinch you did it, black ass really did it
Give the microphone and let him kill it
Give Bone the and watch me beat you like a cop
Lil' G from the hall so the won't stop
And plus I'm packin' punches always keep a grip
My homies call me Bone from the Whole Click
I live like a mack and keep the on my dick
You sap sips still hangin' on my shit
Compton is the heart and where we all from
The jackin' goin' on in the and in the slum
And don't be caught slippin' while we the 4
'Cause Ren'll grab his and watch him smoke 'em from the door
And we make a dash and put that ass in the air
True done by the true fuckin' player
I'm headed to the cut with straight in my pock
make 'em kill 'em 'cause I'm servin' 'em spot
And that's how done I keep it flowin' like a sailor
My beats are large my feats are star, called me Chuck Taylor
Then I call the Juvy 'cause I know we Coupe
Don't 'bout a damn we got the end, we gettin' loot

Then call me Mr. Dopeman I'm chillin' in the spot
My niggaz me Bishop when I'm rollin' with my glock
The call me bandit when I'm runnin' from the cops
And the bitches call me daddy when I'm tearin' up the
Yo the title's Mr. Fuck up so I figure that I'm
Got no luck, shit, gotta go and earn a quick
Boom boom, is the sound of my
'Cause I'm a nigga with a motherfuckin' gun plannin'
I'm a ass nigga makin' motherfuckers fall
A nigga from the streets in the fuckin' hall
I place where we smoke bud and niggaz get
And it comes to music put on MC Ren shit
Now everybody and the bitches gettin' freaky
Took a trick to the room now she ta lick me
Lickin' out my ass like a fuckin' groupie
I'm now I cleans up and call my nigga Juvy
Headin' my niggaz hand me a 4-O
Smokin' the extension you it's the indo
Now I'm feelin' high I'm sittin' on a cloud
The dust that we I guess we live our lives foul
Beware of the nigga that call J-Rock
The goin' through but I still got my glock
I'm watchin' for the bad in every bunch
And if it's necessary motherfucker we can
Or get a fuckin' pump, put a hole in chest
Slugs goin' through a bullet proof vest
Matters worse if I have to drop the dogs
Beat ya in your face till ya hit the hall
So smalls, get your 9 and your clip
And let these motherfuckers know what's up on the Click