Luyện nghe bài hát Phonetime

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

Yea, it's nuthin' I'm gettin' bread
is dead, bitches wanna 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 four-fifth auto, it's pretty chrome
(The day I come home, I need a and a brand 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 iron, son, and readin' books)
I'm in the studio, droppin' sixteen's hooks
(I'm in the yard in the cypha, just my sticks)
I'm in Queens Coliseum, just new kicks
(I hit the law library, to come home soon)
I just finished up the album, ta drop in June
(Yeah, yeah, yeah)

(My dun gangstas, caught in blood beef with the Kings)
(You know Jarome brotha, my dun I to creep wit' in Queens)
And my dun too, so I'ma find out now
And have my dogs on the Island, just get on the
(On the other side of things, I'm to get released)
(Around my born day, but a nigga keep in beef da beast)
Fuck the 'cuz all of dem niggas is fake
lose your C.R., son, you'll get your open date

(Dun, I'ma see ya 'cuz I got two violent felony charges)
And you know your appeal is
(You're my dog, dun)
And we gon' this tight
I your commisary phat, I'ma keep you right
(I got the chronic stashed in a carton and kicks)
(Good lookin' for the bitches and the flicks)
And you gotta thank me, real niggas do real things
I freak hoes, they really do ill things

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 wit'
(I'm in the yard in the cypha, smokin' my sticks)
I'm in Queens Coliseum, just coppin new
(I hit the law library, hope to home soon)
I finished up the album, fin' ta drop in June
(Yeah, yeah, yeah)

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

Spread it out, in the crowd, see niggas get wild
Capone home, niggas diggin our style
(Shit is foul, how these crackers tryin' to me confined?)
(I gotta visit week and saw Gremlin Divine)
Meet Timbo and Ice, got bent and dice
Scooped, loose, then we headed 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 on the streets, just holdin' it down
(I'm in jail iron, son, and readin' books)
I'm in the studio, droppin' sixteen's wit'
(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 come soon)
I finished up the album, fin' ta drop in June
(Yeah, yeah, yeah)

I'm outside on the streets, just holdin' it
(I'm in pumpin' iron, son, and readin' 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, just coppin' new
(I hit the law library, hope to home soon)
I just up the album, fin' ta drop in June
(Yeah, yeah, yeah)