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 starve so when my momma tryna make a dollars,
Any nigga a problem, they be dyin' over dead people.
dead people.

This shit deep.
Don't fuck me.
You end up six deep.
to how I did it.
I up slow on Willow.
Thinkin' 'bout climbin' the fuckin' window.
In the backseat, burners.
Ski mask, body bag, tape, and a pillow.
In the solo.
Sittin' low the lights out.
Feelin' like on some Sonny Sam shit.
With a on my mind that my mind on the homicide,
And my watch they outta time.
Somebody die, bottom line.
Front page, nine.
Headline: Columbine.
I plan and and strategized, and thought about it.
Loaded up in the closet.
My is to get bloody.
can beg and plead, yell and scream.
Try to leave, get in cheese, to God on they knees, but I'm still gettin' fucking ugly.
I love 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 like killin me a mother fucka.)

Last night, I must've had a blast up bodies.
up bloody as fuck in the hospital lobby.
Body with 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, members with body parts missin.
Listen, I ain't do shit, I don't shit.
Man, I don't give a fuck that bitch.
Fuck whatever she said, fuck she saw, it wasn't me.
Oh no no, not me.
to the alibi.
I was at the movies, that shit,
With 3-D glasses on,
And that shit than 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 white chalk in between the tape,
the black gate.
Rottwielers and pitbulls, surrounded by snakes, and AR's.
Some niggas hard to play, some play hard
But house right there, don't go in they yard
It's insanity.
a murderous fantasy.
It's insanity.
Just a murderous of mine.
(Man, I feel like me a mother fucka.)

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