Luyện nghe bài hát Niggas Ain't Playin'

As a youngster I slanged cain,
Not a worry in the world, I'm all money, man
my grind on was all my mind was on
Making a grip, nigga, my was on

back, pulling nothing but mail, fuck a briefcase
Rolex watch with the diamond-studded
Benzes than a dealership
Slant-nose Porche the whole damn kit

Slanging more keys than the players
D.A. was on my but a real nigga didn't care
kicked in my door a million times
And ass bitches was all that they'd ever find

me like Vaseline, but quick as a fox
Drop a key for 25 like was hot
Fools was jealous, I had too many
Fuck a playa hater 'cause I was all about real

Niggas like John-John, the boy the deuce side
O.G. motherfuckers like G and Clyde
gave me the game to survive, opponents gonna die
Fuck him and his family, let the cry

Nigga caught a bullet 'cause it wasn't my he was selling
So I shot him behind me, death was
Always asking myself who would be next,
wear a vest 'cause I paranoid as shit

I gotta survive, I gotta survive, I gotta
Who wants to know I wanna
But the only way I'm going out is
Because the from the deuce ain't playing

my way up in the dope game, I met a lot of stops
I got into funk, one of my boys got shot
Some fool was on my selling dope that wasn't mine
I'm a gangsta, I mean with nines

It never mattered that I knew the fool a time
Cross me once and is all you'll find
But this will be my last hit
To use a gun, it really didn't take

We did it, we did it, we did it, we it
Mossberg sweeper, I pumped it
all 15 rounds
As I shot, and I shot, went down

flying, niggas dying, but I ain't trippin'
I caught a fool with the back bitch
Pulled out the nine and I popped him 4
Now let's see your ass cry

He looked at me on his ass and said
"Fuck you", nigga, you too
The hit was on and it was to go
So I stood in my stide, in the K5

on, niggas, come on, niggas, come on, niggas
I'm a business man, I can't bullshitters
I hate to your family dismay
But and simple nigga, we don't play

I went 5150 when we lost my nigga
27 shots from a clip, loose
For real motherfuckers, I was my shooting skills
Hella mad nightly, shooting motherfuckers at

CTE, I got to lose
And a hell of a lot to gain by you
A thrill killa the heart of real killers know
In to give, I might have to take a blow

It's kind of cold that you lost your
But we lost Bruce, motherfucker
Tomorrow ain't promised a gangsta good
Just a bullet, motherfucker, death is a must

As I bust, squeezing on my on your block
Doing what I feel I do to watch your ass drop
And if punk-ass bitch is in my way
Let the bitch meet my motherfucking AK

Making moves for money, no delaying
It's '91 and the named Pooh, he ain't playing