Luyện nghe bài hát One Mo Pound

I was through the hood one day
Thought shit den down,
"gang-bangin'" den played out by the since I den been around
Ain't talked to nobody my block
Cause all my is locked up
And been all ever I seen wit a guillotine
So I was in the "cut supreme"
Fifteen and some "greenodine"
Ain't a block nigga since
But now I'm off kill green
(mothtafuckas ain't got no for me)
(niggas put some slugs in me)
So I'm double 0 seven, murder redrum wit my three fifty
Brotha lynch hung, but the bitches call me
They try to make me they close to me, but neb'in [never]
You know I gots to (say high) high, keep recipts for alibis
And the meat ate from them drive-bys ain't mine
Cause mine's a desguise
As I the skies high off that buddha
Tah the cusche and the purple hairs
And it got me
(now I'm on the river)
mr. fedex
(cause bodies I deliver)
Got to get to my plot
Unlock the freezer get the meat for the "rocks"
And heat the heat cause it's the "nine-neb'in"
And hot den a mothafucka
(all day everyday) stay loaded up, "krondike" in the trunk
And a pound full of james
Cause I gots to get so hold up soldier

2xs]

The count
(one more pound of and it's guaranteed to make a mothafucka choke)
(ain't got no down ass bitch at my
But I got some ass weed in my ride)

but notches, booches
Fill my pockets, hit 'em up everyday, have my pay
The gaungay got me high now I'm paranoida den these
rich, i'mma take the loot
And the dig a ditch, tell your bitch
To miss me with that hoe
i'mma get this nigga when he surface
And that's on everything I love, I to split his wig
Opened up the little packet, stung him like a yellow-jacket
Rib cage heavily padded, hit him with the automatic
him to hell express from his mailing address
We got his name, for sho', we went to the house and did that shit
I know I said I do it alone in the pass, everybody in the knew
Somebody jack his ass up like a six-four impala
You floatin' on dirty
Pack your shit up like it's on only you and your ? woda-goda?
your ass down, smoke your last pound

2xs]

(if you smell any smoke it's just me and my homies blown)
And I was gettin' home, intoxicated
Fight with my old
She was comin at unreal, hit the blunt and now animated
Motivate through you like a mist
You can hold me in your like that nitro hit
First degree told me if the weed can
It'll some shit, gotta get me an underspot
me a hemp museum like b-legit
I'm tryin to bump my on the moon
Live so high up in the mountains snake meat, fried raccoons
With a attitude I food to eat up
a fat blunt on my couch with my feet up
Top notch program, dos mode indo 95 upgrade
Stay til the day on the ground, i'mma lay, i'mma stay loaded up
In my trunk I got the you up and it'll blow you up
And the count

[brotha lynch hung sends out outs til the end]