Luyện nghe bài hát On My Briefcase

(lynch):
Now on my briefcase was some crumbled
A of saravegas and a 24 ounce o.e.
Might as skeez these couple of hoes
In my 69 sittin' on trues and vogues
For days you might have me in my cinnamon cut chrome shoes
With some you see me tint on the windows indo syndrome
Smokin' it up, not givin' a muthafuckin'
Sold the cut, my ex-hoe that nigga's sqautin' what?
Got at the homie carl, and got some of that
Had me so fuckin' high I got off vietnam
Dead bodies and bitches clits in the crock pot
And the shit don't stop until my muthafuckin' chronic or high
It's just that insane type of thang, let the mac rain guts in the
Siccmade niggas they the world go round
And if you fuck with siccmade you can get your ass gunned down

(phonk beta):
I had a homie who stayed up in alaska, used to flights over nebraska
And flew me back a ounce of that alaska indica weed
And out of the whole zip one seed
Had it wrapped real tight all up in
Can't have the k-9 smell it, man
If only you saw I was seein', the buds was almost pure white, not green
Had to be one of those one hitter dome splitters
That's the type a tweed that makes you wanna fuck baby-sitter
I roll a fattie, I roll this fattie
Niggas'll be all noid wonderin' why lookin at me
Bitches the nerve to say my shit ain't bomb
But it'll have your lungs burnin', like puffin' on napalm

(zagg):
I wipe that up off my forehead, I'm off the cusche
Lay back and take a hit, with a q-tip, it's splittin' my lips
And my dome stays split off
I hit a lick with a quickness, dead bodies in ditches
Appreciate the fact, come correct, I could be vicious
Suspicion, comin' up on recognition I'm creepin' up behind
a 12 gauge, non-fiction, I'm all prepared to go for mine
So in line, a couple of hits, dome split, I be lit on a for real base
With a machete I'll slice your just like them jason cases
Murder traces, but I ain't pinned 'cause there's no
Slight scent of that purple plant, and I can almost sense the essence
What's the get tested, don't come if you can't come correct
It's that west coast shit for life I don't what you expected
I'm reckless, nevertheless I'm a pimp in a bulletproof
Puttin' it down, pound for pound, you need to a step down
50 caliber rounds, I'm runnin' through whole town
Buckin' em down like doom set on deathmatch with the cartoon