Luyện nghe bài hát Nobody Fucking With Us

B]
Let's get it started like transmission and
Got the keys in the cage ready for who you call the
Takin 'em from the biggest bitches to smallest haters
I'm 'bout to serve these niggaz, 'em waiters
Got my right, money right, ready for war
And I got the C4, my competitor's car
These niggaz runnin 'round talkin they better than moi
When I'm done all that's be left bitch is ya head and ya bra
Bitch I'm ahead of the pack, and I'm ahead of the
And I put yo' head on a platter you put some on my name
Bitch I'm the shit, see the stains I done left on the track?
And I ain't sayin no names but I left the best on they
And they ain't sayin no names so I say it myself
I'm finger fuckin this game so you gotta play with
Don't pull a K off the shelf, or pull a strap out the
I ain't gotta draw the pistol, I will at yo' ass
I just let the hands of God toe-tap on you
you mashed like potatoes on the top of the grass
Call the to catch me and they'll just tell you to drop it
I'll find you or later, and they can't do shit to stop it
Got that thang and pop it like a bubble on the double
I am in the flesh, you can't see me with the Hubble
We wishin these niggaz good luck, go get a clover
This Bun B, it's "B.E. 3," this is over

I]
SLAUGHTERHOUUUUUSE! (Whoo, Kiiiiiiiid!)

[Joe
Look at ya man look at me, yeah I know, sickenin huh?
Few got a Porsche with only two doors, to upgrade cause you missin some
We just got two different bills, different styles, sums
as a drive-by, ended as a hit-and-run
Stop me in the streets, let it be properly you greet
Fuck for me, I'm on your property if it's beef
Not for robbery of ya piece, lobomomy with my peeps
comraderie is usually sodomy for the beat
'Less my critics put a lens on them, so I could look it
Shut the fuck up, probably mean that you too to do it
We'd see two to your name, yet you so saucy
I fix this game you can (Thank Me Later) for it, no Aubrey
Switch my up I'm, off my 380 shit
My, bright, stars is by my head, baby shit
Make me sick, what you eat don't make me
Found out the reason they hate me is my God-like presence, must be
While all of the frauds in rap is talkin put a fork in that
Slaughter's back, nigga I got houses all across the map
Even got a pad, got this bitch from Boston bad
put her in a wrestlin move, but I heard she got that (Boston Crab)
Batteries in back, go by what he say
Just need you to know it's no lee-way, and the tables are turned, go DJ
So you know what blindfold's for
That bloodshed's a secret, let's keep it behind doors

[Chorus: Da 5'9"]
Who you was dope again?
Ay, it ain't nobody with us, nobody fuckin with us
Who you said was hot
Ay ay, it ain't nobody fuckin us, nobody fuckin with us
Who you say spit again?
Ay, it nobody fuckin with us, nobody fuckin with us
Who you say was dope
Ay ay, it ain't nobody with us, nobody fuckin with us

I]
I'm the present and the
Like Christmas in 2012 I'm the present in the future, an producer
You will never get to choose ya destiny cause you a pessimistic
Mess with me and definitely shoot ya
I'ma do's ya like I'm the Yakuza
Die hard I'm sexin with Medusa, do somethin nigga
Born thuggin, I don't fuck with the
hang down my pant leg, balls tucked in my socks
I gotta act tough to get a couple of props
nigga raised hisself, I don't know what's up with my pops
Do I I'm the dopest, in America? I do
Make you switch your whole style like you're Erykah Badu
of Ferragamo shoes, I will stomp you
I'm up, like the relationship between Farrakhan and Jews
I'm this instrumental, like a wrinkly old bitch
I'm whippin the kick and snare, make 'em pick they own
I'm smarter than computers that how to fix they own glitch
I'll leave you down, like chicks who lick they own tits
And from this day forward, is aging backwards
Gettin younger and fresher, puttin bums under pressure
Yes sir! Watch the next Slaughterhouse
Every is white powder, I ain't talkin 'bout talcum
I am tighter than "The Biggest Losers" in a Smart car
Distinguished alkie, the on the armoire
I'm from the home of the most bomb weed
Most proper, hoes with my partners who top seed
Po' vodka, we bottle pop in the calm breeze
No copper can stop a COB - I'm a giant
Dumpin my cigar ashes out on top of the trees
Chrome chopper, if I you drop on the concrete
You talk about the paper? Oh let's do it
Batter syndrome, the money we gon' abuse it
Still gettin out-of-town so don't confuse it
Tell the hip-hop cops nah, it's only
And haters eavesdroppin on "The Bar Exam"
Probably in trunk now dependin on what car I ram