Luyện nghe bài hát People

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

shit gets deep.
Don't with me.
You end up six deep.
to how I did it.
I crept up on Willow.
'bout climbin' through the fuckin' window.
In the backseat, burners.
Ski mask, body bag, tape, and a pillow.
In the solo.
Sittin' low the lights out.
like Manson on some Sonny Sam shit.
With a on my mind that my mind on the homicide,
And my said they outta time.
Somebody die, bottom line.
page, column nine.
Headline: Columbine.
I plan and plot and strategized, and about it.
Loaded up in the closet.
My is to get bloody.
They can beg and plead, and scream.
Try to leave, get in cheese, pray to God on they knees, but I'm still fucking ugly.
I fuckin' it.
Took this by his throat and fuckin' cut it and thought nothin' of it.
simple insanity.
Just a fantasy.
simple insanity.
Just a murderous of mine.
(Man, I like killin me a mother fucka.)

night, I must've had a blast choppin up bodies.
Woke up bloody as fuck in the lobby.
filled with adrenaline.
Not rememberin what I did to get all blood on my fuckin' Timberlands.
Cop's I did what to him?
me pictures of cut-up bitches, disfigured members with body parts missin.
Listen, I ain't do shit, I don't shit.
Man, I give a fuck about 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 shit longer 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 to the white chalk in between the yellow tape,
the black gate.
Rottwielers and pitbulls, surrounded by snakes, and AR's.
Some niggas hard to play, niggas play hard
But that house right there, don't go in they
It's insanity.
a murderous fantasy.
It's insanity.
Just a murderous of mine.
(Man, I feel like me a mother fucka.)

Beware of shit, shot 'em through the fence
Tough line men couldn't stop the blitz.
Them niggas inside, a kittens
And this here, good riddance.
Nigga fuck around, it's for instance
the mind of a bullet
Here I I can smell the flesh aimin' for your head or neck.
Nigga, pray to God I hit your chest.
Now here I come straight outta drum, headed for lungs.
You in my sight.
The last one do it right,
And I'm waitin.
Just at you.
Thinkin about it and gettin tired of 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 open up muthafuckin mouth.
insanity.
Just a fantasy.
insanity.
Just a murderous of mine.
(Now I feel like killin me a fucka.)