Luyện nghe bài hát On The Real

Yeah, yeah, on the, on the, on the
On the real, all you crab niggaz the deal

Finally up in nigga
Let's pay homage to
put the crown where it's at
10 years been done this real by nobody

To my seed, may I lead you into no greed or
In the of stories I breed my sequel
You the money, blues, blunts, broken 22's
see, monkey do

Shorty sipping dew
Now it's V S O P in a phantom, mad
Murder trees, cruisin' gat in the stash so it won't me
Up in the Trump Plaza, Suite 3010, don't no noise

'Cause we dirty tell hoes hurry in
We got the room lit up with perfume and mad
And video taping bloomin' ass's on the zoomin' lens
on you nondescript niggaz

You're marked for death like Colombians with bad coke that gyp
Tilt the dutch, twisted up the uwee if you're skilled
In will we trust, salute the dead the mili busts

That verse is 10 years old, 9 1/2 old
Disciple
The Rebirth comin' at you this baby
on baby

Yeah to the hood, may this be the day that we pop them
This is mandatory, if there's not tomorrow?
You know the rate, jealousy, you heard 'em say
He say, she say, I'm bout cheddar, he don't deserve to

Sippin' clear liquor with niggaz, that talk
close, to every word in case they violate
Up in the Apartment 5D
Spark a lea' it's bout da reed, everything the block see

We 'bout to need to take the corners them cowards
Get it on so can move more coke powder, by the hour
Hold in case we rip niggaz
Loaded teflon coated projectiles'll niggaz

From ninth grade to to grams to my
Mans with guns in
vans, they missed the summers again

Yeah, to the people
Death to the
This beast to the mic 1, 2
fed-e-rallies on me

And they look you approachin' me like how you, homie?
The F B I see one problem, they try to slump me
the young black male 'cuz he makes a lot of money
So hustlers make crack sales 'cuz deprived and hungry

My country hates I could run free state to state with hunnies
While cake with real golded plate rims on Hum-V's
The bush stroker, the kush smoker,
when you thought it was over look over your shoulders

I'm 30 now, baby sip and sip 'em slow
Motto no stress, smokin' less I did befo'
You see the kid was broke till I spitted vivid expressions of
ghetto children, of a lesser god, religion was fast women
Expensive cars y'all witnessin' over 10