Luyện nghe bài hát Music Makes Me High

Yeah. Supervision.

If you look my eyes. If you look into my eyes (tell me what you see.) Tell
me you see, you see ...

If you look into my eyes, tell me you see, you see ...

See, they don understand me. Ie through him, and him, and him, and then
come at m again. I know niggas in the pen, and figgas for you and them.
creepinon my people. Chances are slim. Be married to the music. Boom! Hit
the stage, to die for it, cry for it. Cut the games. Many tried for it,
for it, get a catchy chorus and fly for it. Take orbit, let gravity be
your fortress tonight. Elevate your brain, hold your heart and just sing,
gracefully we age through all the pain. in rain. Evidence of it
heavenly fangs for my explanation on ane. The fame was the sum of
our money, chained in a murder, murder shame, with a pistol and a
bang! Well, let me finish with thug love. I off to hit the club with the
bud and the track, hit the mud. Keep the gun, it my love.

Tell me you see, you see ... If you look into my eyes.

I love to my music, my music. My music makes me high.
(Bizzy: Tell me you see, you see ... If you look into my eyes.)

I love to my music, like my music my lady. Sippinon Brandi,
intoxicated. __. And i chillinwith Krayzie, and we high off that
Thai. My reason why, like R. Kelly, I believe I can fly. And plus, me I
can see, my clouded. Premeditate m or bust, and please label me 'out
it, 'out it. As I my thoughts, take me a breath. God bless my homie
[insert name], he one in the chest. And yes, but he still here to rap a
song, another day. While ya bullshhhhh, crack the top on that Alize! ause
we don play in this land of the loc, where brothers, smoke trees up with
dust, and see, they bleed. Then they plead. i on top, straight ballin
Makinlove to my woman, but my music steady callin and stallin But it
comes to me, you should please let me prophecy, yes, I make love to my
music. I ...

I music. Any kind of music, as long as it pumpinto keep me thuggin self
in check. Maintain the mentality I got to keep my composure, and the
perfect potion. i coastinroll a blunt up, roll m up. Put some of them
jams on. And, nigga, we so put on some old school, homie, let hit the
dance floor. Music really makes me happy. When i stressin hot, I put
on some instrumentals. Stop, I about what I done been through. I put it
to paper, then put it to wax, and kick some facts, sit and relax, now
everything is all right. If it for this music, i be dead, fuck a jail,
ause a nigga ain never to that hell. Feel me. Kill me. And if it
for the man upstairs blessing me with talent, like the average thug
nigga, would I vanish? But this got us niggas established. Got us
living lavish. yourself, survival tactics, nigga, and yll can have it.
Even though it and strain in the game, one thing I can do is ... Is
the music.

I making love to my music, my music. My makes me high.
(Bizzy: Tell me what you see, you see ... If you look my eyes.)

Nigga, it don't stop, and it won't stop ause i just can't quit. This be
runninthrough my veins nothinbut platinum hits. And nigga it don't stop,
ause it won't stop, ause it just don't quit. This be runninthrough my
veins with nothinbut platinum shit. Nigga I gotsta it. It like automatic
rounds I put this down. Constantly fuckin up instrumentals, you remember
that thuggish ruggish sound. You can the love goin through the speakers,
creepin livinlife on the deep end. believe you won catch me sleepin
put up a and I heat, dismiss the flames. Nigga, cut the games, me and my
music we and eat together. We hop in the Benz, get off in the winds, and
we run the streets together. And we on a to stick up the industry full
throttle. Mo Thugs, mo the motto, so, nigga, the slugs that I bring come
hollow. Nigga we can do this in the song, or nigga we can do in person.
Whatever you do when you cross the boss, little Lay'll be puttinhis
in. ause me and my music, nigga, we don't take that shit. Nigga, put the
pen to the pad, get mad and I break that bitch. Nigga, just the thug in
me, mixed up with the indo and the OlE. I drop this thugsta poetry, I
make all know who the fuck I be, niggas!

I making love to my music, my music. My makes me high.
(Bizzy: Tell me what you see, you see ... If you into my eyes.)