Luyện nghe bài hát Mr. Fuck Up

* (NOT Money -- MC Ren's brother)

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

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