Luyện nghe bài hát N***** Get They Wig Split

Bitch I got beam like
you spotty
When I this aim at your brain
And leave them hollow thangs in your
I drinks Bacardi
Gets dick hard
When I'm off that punk
And you don't wanna dance tingo
I let my left mingle mangle
To jaw southpaw
It oughta be a law against thangs I throw
About to lay some down with Celly Cel and Bo
From the Garden
Hillside got they
Mack
Mobb neva end
I'm to have it all
So I 'till I'm gold
Mobbin' a sixty usin' cruise control

I'm fuckin' wit that click
That big on the block
Glocks, Rag Tops
Cut thangs on them knocks
Better watch your back ''cause we strapped with
Push up in a Lex'
And caps to your neck
Mobb
all die
Leather
and two nines
Costume of a
At your bed holdin' on two millas
Uggh we bust teks close range
estranged
Called
when it's on it's on site no matter night or day
And you fuck wit these
Get smothered a half a key

Celly
Give me the ball and I'ma fill the lane 'Fenney
Hardaway ''cause I'm out to get every
Any nigga disrespectin' when I'm for my scrilla
I know'm stilla wig killa ain't no realla
realla than me
Mobbin' through your hood and takin'
Slumpin' hangin out the dumpin'
And shakin'
So mind own
the line and see how quick they gone
Head blown decapitated slippin' in my zone

with this Mobb shit
Niggaz get they wig

Uggh it's the murder man posted at the front
And when they comes I dumps with four-four's
Letin' 'em have it ''cause I'm
the grass
his ass
And then kneel down and get my laugh
Punk bitch shouldn't tripped
Now he lay dead in the
Ass
Suckin' on his own
talk
Bullshit
Fool this ain't no
killas
One blocc, two hillside

This shit's fucked and I am tag teamin' with the man
And that'll a man
doin' dirt and
All you got to do is hop ass in my 'Cut
be back tomorrow mornin'
Cell, you comin' or
I got this gut
About to make the killin' for a
The contract said the nigga wore a tap
And they want him
A hundred G's for his
And leave a bloody glove down that body bled

Celly
Red rum is what I'm as I hit the fence
Homicide for prints but found no evidence
Stuffed his head in the bag and zipped it up
ballas want to see his face before they break us off a cut
There it is cashed him like some chips at
Slid us a briefcase full of crispy ass
the hit
Got the
Gone without a
B behind the
And Bo Loc cuffed to the
Yo' nigga Cell got the chopper 'case on my trail
If it's a then I'ma leave a 50 empty shells
smokin'
These know we ain't no jokin'
up the tokens
And I'm back in the hood

Fuckin' with Mobb shit
get they wig split

Yeah, like a real hillside strangler, yola slanger, tryin to get a but if I'm fucked in the gas chamber.
The autopsy red, them had some heat fo yo ass.
And never leave your block without glock, clip and mask.
Haters hatin but its all game and that's what we do bitch