Luyện nghe bài hát Nuff Said

[Kool G.
Here's the motherfuckin
I'll even bag motherfuckers
See suckers there was ten I sent
So if you come in my way - great, I out the trey - eight
Kool G. Rap's your fate, and not playmate
So all you on the floor, bitchin that shit is dead
Tell it to the mortician
So get ready to let the led out, I'm knockin niggaz out
and blowin the back of fuckin head out
Cookin niggaz better than mama's
So let the drama enter, I'm sendin to the trauma center
Because I'm rollin with force, tearin niggaz out the
they was pictures of a bitch that I divorced
Boss, so come on nigga, get wild and
I whoop motherfuckin ass and get arrested for child abuse
Even your can get it nigga
I shove the of a nine up her behind
and pull the fuckin
Goin Psycho like Bates, G. you better sedate
lately niggaz ain't able to take me
It ain't a man in the land can stand G. Rap
Save that candy-rap, for the handicapped
Niggaz'll get slayed like a bunch of play
Fuckin with me, y'alld rather fuck the AIDS virus
I set em up wet em up like sprinkles
And put niggaz to sleep than Rip Van Winkle
The the shit, the quicker the hit, I'm peakin a fit
Leavin sicker than Liberace's dick
Good luck, another bucked
I kick you so far up your ass I get my motherfuckin foot
See I manage to give niggaz than a bandage
Blue Cross and Blue Shield, cover the motherfuckin damage
Cause I'm bold and bigger, puttin manholes in
and triggers up, to them golddiggers
So if you all over my dick like a rubber
My rap is so fat, I make ? and ? ?
You better duck, I'm like a when I erupt
you rappers'll get fucked
And you'll be one hoe, Marilyn Monroe
on death row, because I let the gun go
bang blow your motherfuckin out
But you need more than detergent to get that stain out
I serve more crabs than Red Lobster's
When I pop shots, I leave lotsa dead
Put down the microphone whether unknown or
You're out of luck and I don't give a FUCK what name is
Boy you better split, I'ma house shit
My dick'll be rich if you
wants to put your money your mouth is
Gassed up ass nigga, set it
Cause I pick up the gun, that be the end of the unleaded
Now you could be a gold or a artist
But deep down, you fuckin silly clowns know who's the
I watered down with the quarter pound
cause my slaughter sound can be around
and found the town
For the clowns got eighty rounds worth of
it again Sam, put on my jams, fuck a piano
I'm leavin lame brain dead
Aww fuck it, nuff