Luyện nghe bài hát Nobody Fucking With Us

B]
Let's get it like transmission and alternators
Got the in the cage ready for who you call the greatest
'em down from the biggest bitches to smallest haters
I'm 'bout to serve niggaz, call 'em waiters
Got my mind right, right, ready for war
And I got the C4, under my car
These niggaz runnin 'round talkin they better than moi
I'm done all that's gon' be left bitch is ya head and ya bra
Bitch I'm of the pack, and I'm ahead of the game
And I put yo' on a platter you put some shit 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 back
And ain't sayin no names so I gotta say it myself
I'm finger fuckin this game so you gotta with yourself
Don't a K off the shelf, or pull a strap out the stash
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 sooner or later, and can't do shit to stop it
Got that thang and I'ma pop it a bubble on the double
I am trouble in the flesh, you can't see me the Hubble
We ain't these niggaz good luck, go get a clover
This Bun B, "B.E. 3," this shit is over

I]
SLAUGHTERHOUUUUUSE! (Whoo, Kiiiiiiiid!)

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

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

I]
I'm the present and the
Like Christmas in 2012 I'm the in the future, an executive producer
You will never get to choose ya destiny cause you a pessimistic
Mess with me and I'll shoot ya
I'ma do's ya like I'm reppin the
Die hard like I'm sexin with Medusa, do somethin
Born thuggin, I fuck with the cock
hang down my pant leg, balls tucked in my socks
I ain't 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 datin Badu
Pair of Ferragamo shoes, I stomp you
I'm fucked up, the relationship between Farrakhan and Jews
I'm spankin this instrumental, like a wrinkly old
I'm whippin the kick and snare, 'em pick they own switch
I'm smarter than computers that know how to fix they own
I'll leave you face down, chicks who lick they own tits
And from this day forward, Crooked is backwards
Gettin younger and fresher, puttin under some pressure
Yes sir! Watch the Slaughterhouse album
line is white powder, I ain't talkin 'bout talcum
I am tighter than "The Biggest Losers" cruisin in a car
Distinguished alkie, the flask on the
I'm from the home of the most popular weed
Most proper, hoes rock with my who top seed
Po' vodka, we gon' bottle pop in the breeze
No can stop a COB star - I'm a giant
Dumpin my cigar out on top of the palm trees
chopper, if I squeeze you drop on the concrete
You wanna 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
the hip-hop cops nah, it's only music
And haters eavesdroppin on "The Bar Exam"
Probably in your trunk now on what car I ram