Luyện nghe bài hát My Jewel

Just like that, boy

Y'all me
Bigger than (crazy)
Y'all me? (yeah)
The sun do
me (yeah)
Dolla (yeah)
(yeah)

(Birdman)

Give me my
Die for my
up the food
Got the ice for the
Bullshit or hustle, money
Buyin' yo
jets mothafucka
Yo, we a luxury life
Don P., pearl
Harley Davis
Nigga, on sight
Do the mikes
the five mikes
Jam the mikes
Five and nigga life (brrat)

(Birdman)

Bounce back,
Fuck, in a nigga sell
I'm hell doing swell
Make the mil, the mirror
the money, fuck who tells
Make the
the money
Nigga show and (yeah)
From the
the roaches at
Hit the light
Where the roaches
Bounce back, choppers
More stacks, out the
To a bus nigga mill (yeah)
So she me
So I her right
the floor, no ceilings
What a sight
Harley Davis is a nigga
Eleven-hundred,
every night (yeah)
Put the suede the plush leather
Leather so soft, nigga do it any
Fly in any
in any weather
Shine in any (brrat)

(Birdman)

Give me my
Die for my
Cooked up the
Got the ice for the
Bullshit or hustle, mothafucka
yo self
Private mothafucka
Yo, we live a luxury
Don P., white
Davis bike
Nigga, on sight
Do the mikes
Take the five
Jam the five
Five star and life (brrat)

(Bun B)

this is G shit
Straight up out the wars, out the back of the projects
Where niggas pull and choppers get pulled out
you at the barber
Fresh up out the blue like we at the harbor
This is my (life)
A ghetto dream come
plates on the Benz (Benz), ridin' so new
On some 2011 shit, I come through
Black paint, black
And the rims, too
Can you see me
I'm on the low though
In the four-door
With the bar logo
Smokin' kush rolled up
In a damn splif getting as
eagle dare drift
Ain't that damn shit
And true though
But it ain't I'm telling you
Something you ain't knew though
So don't get it twisted a noodle
I'll put one in noodle
And leave a nigga
So it do, Bro

(Birdman)

Give me my
Die for my
Cooked up the
Got the ice for the
Bullshit or hustle, money
yo self
Private jets
See, we live a luxury
Don P., pearl
Davis bike
Nigga, on sight
Do the mikes
Take the five
Jam the mikes
Five star and nigga (brrat)

(Young Jeezy)

Give me my
got it bad
He ain't no
Jizzle 'bout his bag
2010 droppin head, 26-inch
in the back with the 100-round mag (yeah)
Call him bag, bitch I'm Mr. Toilet Paper
Call me half a clip with the gasoline
Fuck the hollow tips we the gasoline chase you
Smoke that fire shit, that shit'll face you
Cause young nigga heartless, he walkin' a pacer
and yellow mirror, that's my Indiana placer
Black with the red beam, my Portland blazer
No playin I'm from, we'll fucking trail blaze you
Don't love no
And on everything I own
But I swear nigga love strap I ever owned
Black head to toe with the V. holster
Straight gangster shit, I match my Porsche

(Birdman)

Give me my
Die for my
Cooked up the
Got the ice for the
Bullshit or hustle, mothafucka
yo self
Private jets
Yo, we live a life
Don P., pearl
Harley bike
Nigga, on sight
Do the five
the five mikes
Jam the five
Five star and nigga (brrat)

Yeah, I see you
Yeah, OG
That
Pay man
010, yeah, summer we shine