Luyện nghe bài hát People

in my pocket.
in my wallet.
If you talkin' my profit,
All I see is people.
All I see is people.
You so when my momma tryna make a couple dollars,
Any nigga a problem, they be dyin' over dead people.
Muthafuckin' people.

shit gets deep.
Don't fuck me.
You end up six deep.
to how I did it.
I up slow on Willow.
Thinkin' 'bout climbin' through the window.
In the backseat, burners.
Ski mask, bag, duct tape, and a pillow.
In the solo.
Sittin' low with the out.
Feelin' like Manson on some Sam shit.
With a murder on my mind that my on the homicide,
And my watch said they time.
Somebody gotta die, line.
Front page, nine.
Another Columbine.
I plan and plot and strategized, and about it.
up everything in the closet.
My is to get bloody.
can beg and plead, yell and scream.
Try to leave, get in cheese, pray to God on they knees, but I'm gettin' fucking ugly.
I fuckin' it.
Took this nigga by his throat and fuckin' cut it and nothin' of it.
simple insanity.
Just a fantasy.
simple insanity.
Just a murderous of mine.
(Man, I feel like me a mother fucka.)

Last night, I must've had a blast up bodies.
Woke up as fuck in the hospital lobby.
Body filled adrenaline.
Not rememberin what I did to get all blood on my fuckin' Timberlands.
Cop's I did what to him?
Showin me pictures of cut-up bitches, disfigured members with body missin.
Listen, I do shit, I don't know shit.
Man, I don't a fuck about that bitch.
Fuck she said, fuck whatever she saw, it wasn't me.
Oh no no, not me.
to the alibi.
I was at the movies, that shit,
them 3-D glasses on,
And that shit longer mother fucka.
Look at my pocket, get the though.
my alibi, bitch.
Now up?
out the cuffs, now I'm back on the outside,
And west where Homicide reside.
my nigga.
He live on 1st and 48th right next to the chalk in between the yellow tape,
the black gate.
Rottwielers and pitbulls, by snakes, AK's and AR's.
Some niggas hard to play, some niggas play
But that house there, don't go in they yard
It's insanity.
Just a fantasy.
It's insanity.
Just a murderous of mine.
(Man, I feel killin me a mother fucka.)

Beware of shit, shot 'em through the fence
Tough line men couldn't stop the blitz.
Them inside, a couple kittens
And right here, good riddance.
Nigga fuck around, it's suicide for
Picture the of a bullet
I come I can smell the flesh aimin' for your head or neck.
Nigga, pray to God I hit your chest.
Now here I come outta drum, headed for your lungs.
You in my sight.
The one didn't do it right,
And I'm waitin.
lookin at you.
Thinkin about it and tired of lookin at you.
Hi, daddy, me?
Goodbye, daddy, is what it gotta be.
You brought me in this world, now I'm you out.
Now you open up muthafuckin mouth.
insanity.
Just a fantasy.
insanity.
Just a murderous of mine.
(Now I feel like me a mother fucka.)