Luyện nghe bài hát Perfect Team Pt. 3

[Mike
Mike Jones, back on the track
I pack a gat, I'm in the 'lac
I wreck a track, wack
To make my paper stack
If I don't grind, I don't shine
If I shine, I get left behind
I hit the block, a knot
And shake the for one time
I keep my on the lo-lo
'Cause haters and tell the po-po
I ride solo in my
Caren colored Volvo
I wreck the mic I go
My name everywhere I go
You tryed to but I know you know
You tryed to deny but I know you
If you get me for a show
Or get me to on a flow
Hit
If you get me for a show
Or get me to feature on a
Hit

Swang the in the DSR boat
I a lil, see these stacks and c-notes
So I'm puttin' all in ya face
Put on ya shades, VVS's glare in ya face
I rock the mic but I on tools
I eat at places where they call me
Sit at the table read the menu
the beat, look out the window, watch the rims continue
Tony style, with a slit in my brows
See big rocks on the watch, thou bling-bloaw
Call me Tum-T, I'm big with the rocks
at the ear, look at the grill, look at the necks, look at the watch
Tum-T, boss, O.G. out the 3
You would think I was how the screens Rain On Me
Yeah!, Still Magnificent on the Mike I was Jones
You lookin' at bitch, go and direct me to the throne

Wall]
When you see me on the block, I'm on my (I'm on my grind)
And when I'm off in the trap it's hustle time (It's hustle time)
I'm bout my paper, my cash, I'm bout that green (Bout that green)
I never roll, I'ma soldier, I'll one for the team
Paul Wall, Swishahouse, Swishablast cash
Gotta get up off my ass, cause fly's fast
Opportunities but I'm still the same ol' G (Same ol' G)
Reebok's and white-t's, I'm still the ol' me (Same ol' me)
you see me at the club, I'm at the bar (I'm at the bar)
And if a gal all in my mix then she a (She a star)
Pretty face, waste, with a coca-cola shape
but she don't me, she just boppin' off my car (Off my car)
player, I'ma hustler, I'ma mac (I'ma mac)
Candy paint, on the cadillac (The cadillac)
Paint drippin' damp, Paul Wall the people's champ
I wonder what them haters think that ('Bout that)

I'ma hood doctor, hit foot locker and jerseys
Bust a flow and hoe's say "Have Mercy"
Like uncle jessie, my is messy
From throwin' haters in it, I'm in a Navigator
My rims spinnin', when I stop do the wiggle-wiggle
is little, candy paint look like little skittles
I'm in on that 635
I get brain from 6:30 til
Make hoes go-live
New 4's
Make hoes hop inside, and expose those thighs
I nut it's like fuck them boppers
Pull-up, new truck on choppers
Glad that I made it, it's never been fun of the
'Cause these chips on my shoulders ain't Funyons or
Nigga, it's Magno, Jones, Tum-T, Fat B
Fuck it man Team Part 3