Luyện nghe bài hát Mr. Fuck Up

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

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

Then call me Mr. Dopeman I'm chillin' in the spot
My niggaz call me when I'm rollin' with my glock
The call me bandit when I'm runnin' from the cops
And the bitches me daddy when I'm tearin' up the cock
Yo the title's Mr. up so I figure that I'm fucked
Got no luck, shit, gotta go and earn a buck
boom, is the sound of my cannon
'Cause I'm a nigga a motherfuckin' gun master plannin'
I'm a crazy ass nigga makin' motherfuckers
A nigga the streets hangin' in the fuckin' hall
I place we smoke bud and niggaz get bent
And it comes to music put on MC Ren shit
Now everybody chillin' and the bitches gettin'
a trick to the room now she gots ta lick me
Lickin' out my ass hole like a groupie
I'm now I cleans up and call my nigga Juvy
Headin' my niggaz hand me a 4-O
the extension you know it's the indo
Now I'm feelin' high like I'm on a cloud
The dust that we I guess we live our lives foul
Beware of the nigga 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 motherfucker we can thump
Or get a fuckin' pump, put a hole in your
Slugs goin' straight a bullet proof vest
Matters gettin' if I have to drop the dogs
ya in your face yellin' till ya hit the hall
So smalls, get your fuckin' 9 and clip
And let these motherfuckers know what's up on the Whole