Luyện nghe bài hát No Hands

Look mama, no
I'm on top of a muthafuckin hundred grand
They a shot... Airball
You think I give a fuck about you Not at all
Yela, it goin?
Aw man, I'm standin on top of a muthafuckin grand
took a shot... Airball
You I give a fuck about you pussies? Not at all

1]
Ain't no to quit, what the fuck I look like?
To put a cease and a desist on this heat I spit, shit, Bitch!
I believe in my wits, Enough to believe my kids
be home till Christmas
Chevy's on the wish list, no Santa clause, no m'am, pause
I'm stuck in play like a fair
Know you to call it foul, say hip hop ain't in the south
But these rap tunes
Got the bitch in the back room with a mouth AH!
I'd it all and Lord knows it
Put my on the bull's eye
I a camera jealous of my focus
And shady if you ain't noticed
The things loaded, I put on my great grand daddy named Otis
In a traffic jam, I got my open
Played the game with the token
You did and cracked the open
When they the rap game was in a drought
I was swimmin in so much dope I had to my life jacket out like

Get a workout, bitch, run your
I know you'd dig a hole six deep with a spoon
to see me trip
You're window shoppin and see the gift
When the shit is sittin in of your face
cement in between the bricks
If the had name for me, I'd be Slumerican
This whole shit started out "Bitch, bet I can! "
And I do it with a and a farmers tan
And on top of a grand, bet I stand
And I made it cause I had heart
Waking up to roaches in my cereal box, buddy, a bad start!
stamps in the Pathmark,
While of these bitch ass rappers will take a dick to say they had it hard
Don't make one of slums come intercept you
Enter your dorm room and punk you, you internet
I'm spring with the salt of an old man,
Drinkin a fifth and with my knee in an old van like

A couple of loose ain't stoppin a train from movin
A couple of bucks short of a ? and I'm still one proofin
Under the heat like I been metal roofin, in a trenchcoat and a hoodie
Head bangin to heavy music
I'm now home, god, 'Bama it's on!
Throwin rocks out the window on 20, that's a
tomorrow, yesterday is now gone
I dedicate this song to me... how wrong
Shoes up with the mainstream face up,
the same team that I came up with (Mayne WHAT!)
Changed the game up, a change up
?With a pain that'll on to?, Bitch ya better remain tough (Mayne WHAT!)
to help weezy pack up 50 pounds,
Green bay a bowl,
A soul packin the couch
And the landlord used to me out,
But I went packin my house
To THE house, BITCH!