Luyện nghe bài hát Music Makes Me High

Yeah. Supervision.

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

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

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

Tell me what you see, you see ... If you 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 making love to my music, like my my lady. Sippinon Brandi,
intoxicated. Humminto __. And i chillinwith Krayzie, and we 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, it. As I collect 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 of the loc, where brothers, they smoke trees up with
dust, and see, they bleed. Then they plead. i on top, straight ballin
Makinlove to my woman, but my steady callin and never stallin But it
to me, you should please let me have prophecy, yes, I make love to my
music. I ...

I love music. Any kind of music, as long as it pumpinto keep me thuggin
in check. Maintain the I got to keep my composure, and music 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 makes me happy. When i stressin mental hot, I put
on instrumentals. Stop, I think about what I done been through. I put it
to paper, put it to wax, and kick some facts, sit back 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
wasn for the man upstairs blessing me talent, like the average thug
nigga, would I But this platinum got us niggas established. Got us
lavish. Apply yourself, survival tactics, nigga, and yll can have it.
Even though it stress and 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 ause i just can't quit. This game be
runninthrough my with nothinbut platinum hits. And nigga it don't stop,
ause it won't stop, ause it just don't quit. game be runninthrough my
veins with nothinbut platinum shit. Nigga I have it. It like automatic
rounds when I put 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 beat and I heat, 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 mission to stick up the full
throttle. Mo Thugs, mo money the motto, so, nigga, the slugs I bring come
hollow. we can do this in the song, or nigga we can do this in person.
Whatever you do you cross the gunline boss, little Lay'll be puttinhis
work in. 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, it's the thug in
me, mixed up with the indo and the OlE. When I this thugsta poetry, I
make all know who the fuck I be, niggas!

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