Luyện nghe bài hát Phonetime

Son, I zone, my gun is on safety
I copped the new Jordan's, the white ones skate key
(Me, I'm chillin' Pop, serving my time)
(Got my on, these faggots ain't deservin' a shine)
And yeah, while I'm home you like livin'
I heard those crackers dissed you, smack you at the
(When twenty-four, did the same to Norman and Lord)
(Heard you cop the silver GS, my you scored)

Yea, it's nuthin' I'm gettin' bread
Crack is dead, bitches give me head
(You's a nigga, I just saw Kai in the yard)
(He said holla, you getta chance, scribe the God)
Kai I said what up, and his sister is grown
I copped the auto, it's pretty with chrome
(The day I come home, I need a mink and a new Mac)
(A few jump offs, Dom's, some beer, and the crack)

I'm outside on the streets, just holdin' it
(I'm in jail pumpin' iron, son, and books)
I'm in the studio, droppin' sixteen's hooks
(I'm in the in the cypha, just smokin' my sticks)
I'm in Coliseum, just coppin' new kicks
(I hit the law library, hope to home soon)
I just finished up the album, ta drop in June
(Yeah, yeah, yeah)

(My little dun gangstas, caught in beef with the Kings)
(You know Jarome brotha, my dun I used to creep in Queens)
And dat's my dun too, so find out now
And have my dogs on the Island, get on the prawl
(On the other of things, I'm tryin' to get released)
(Around my born day, but a keep in beef wit' da beast)
the police 'cuz all of dem niggas is fake
Don't lose your C.R., son, get your open date

(Dun, see ya regardless 'cuz I got two violent felony charges)
And you your appeal is progress
(You're my dog, dun)
And we gon' keep tight
I keep your phat, I'ma keep you right
(I got the chronic stashed in a carton and kicks)
(Good for the bitches butt-naked and the flicks)
And you ain't gotta thank me, real niggas do real
I keep hoes, they really do ill things

I'm outside on the streets, just it down
(I'm in jail pumpin' iron, son, and books)
I'm in the studio, droppin' wit' hooks
(I'm in the yard in the cypha, just my sticks)
I'm in Queens Coliseum, coppin new kicks
(I hit the law library, hope to come soon)
I just finished up the album, fin' ta in June
(Yeah, yeah, yeah)

I used to be ugly, now bitches is Medusa
And guess what? I you executive producer
Some extra G's, so when you home you breathe
(They won't believe to see me home to a V)
(Pigs pressin' me, autographs for they seeds)
(I gotta C.O. thinkin' that we gon' fuck I leave)
Yo, nigga think about money, fuck them hoes
We gonna throw a pounda out, at one the shows

Spread it out, in the crowd, see niggas get wild
Capone home, niggas still our style
(Shit is foul, how crackers tryin' to keep me confined?)
(I gotta visit week and saw Gremlin Divine)
Meet Timbo and Ice, got bent and rolled
Scooped, ridin' loose, then we to Post
And got hydro-weed and we had our toast
(Son, there's one minute left)
(Son, only one minute left, son, I'm ghost)

I'm outside on the streets, just it down
(I'm in pumpin iron, son, and readin' books)
I'm in the studio, sixteen's wit' hooks
(I'm in the yard in the cypha, just my sticks)
I'm in Queens Coliseum, coppin' new kicks
(I hit the law library, hope to come soon)
I just finished up the album, fin' ta in June
(Yeah, yeah, yeah)

I'm on the streets, just holdin' it down
(I'm in jail iron, son, and readin' books)
I'm in the studio, droppin' sixteen's hooks
(I'm in the yard in the cypha, smokin' my sticks)
I'm in Queens Coliseum, just new kicks
(I hit the law library, hope to home soon)
I finished up the album, fin' ta drop in June
(Yeah, yeah, yeah)