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 greens on, these ain't deservin' a shine)
And yeah, I'm home you like livin' abroad
I heard those dissed you, smack you at the board
(When twenty-four, they did the same to and Lord)
(Heard you cop the silver GS, my you scored)

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

I'm outside on the streets, just 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, just my sticks)
I'm in Queens Coliseum, coppin' new kicks
(I hit the law library, hope to home soon)
I just up the album, fin' ta drop in June
(Yeah, yeah, yeah)

(My dun gangstas, caught in blood beef with the Kings)
(You Jarome brotha, my dun I used to creep wit' in Queens)
And dat's my dun too, so I'ma out now
And have my dogs on the Island, just get on the
(On the other of things, I'm tryin' to get released)
(Around my born day, but a nigga keep in wit' da beast)
Fuck the police 'cuz all of dem is fake
Don't 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 appeal is progress
(You're my dog, dun)
And we gon' this tight
I keep your phat, I'ma keep you right
(I got the chronic stashed in a carton and kicks)
(Good lookin' for the butt-naked and the flicks)
And you ain't gotta thank me, real do real things
I keep freak hoes, they do ill things

I'm outside on the streets, just holdin' it
(I'm in jail pumpin' iron, son, and books)
I'm in the studio, sixteen's wit' 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 come soon)
I just finished up the album, ta drop in June
(Yeah, yeah, yeah)

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

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

I'm on the streets, just holdin' 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, just coppin' new
(I hit the law library, to come home soon)
I just finished up the album, ta drop in June
(Yeah, yeah, yeah)

I'm outside on the streets, holdin' 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, smokin' my sticks)
I'm in Queens Coliseum, just new kicks
(I hit the law library, hope to come soon)
I just finished up the album, fin' ta in June
(Yeah, yeah, yeah)