Luyện nghe bài hát Pistol Pistol

Yeah, welcome to (Detroit, nigga!)
The reason why rappers pack pistols (Why is that?)

Slick wit, the shit I spit chews
Like a bullet came back that missed and hit you
I say the type of shit parents their wrists to
Need an anthem to amp you, then this the to
Too many enemies on my list to through
Nobody got my back in this bitch but do
Sorry officer I care how pissed it get you
But I don't go nowhere without my pistol

Nigga, we violently active, so fuck us
See I'm backwards, I slap and punch bitches
Just for asking, they musta wanting to meet the Lord
When my parents talked to me, got mean mugged and ignored
They were snooping through my closet, seen drugs on the
from the 44 scattered over they porch
Busting pistols in your windows with intentions to you
Tryna break neck to conversate? Bitch, I'll do it for you
Catch me at your funeral when they lower you
You and your ho, you to go, bitches died slow and horrible
There's no for any nigga we'll shower you
We young strapped and powerful and I gotta lie to you

in the door, waving the 44
Blazing at po-po, and lay low
They my tongue ya-yo, but I spit fire
I lit five a fucking dick-rider
The clip slider, to blast a Mag
You a fag, you love ass to ass
Grab a gun by the nose with the to gat-spank ya
Never say that I'm a gangsta (Now gangsta)
Y'all niggas sound Jigga but act like Pac
Yo my trigger got the flu and this gat might
It ain't to tell, empty shells for the witness
I'm the hot that's gon' put hell outta business
It won't be the same since we the game
the hardest nigga in your crew, tuck in his chain
Y'all this shit's a game and I'm bluffing for fame?
I'll squeeze off this tec until remains

The only that I'm at peace is when I'm close to one
Cause I don't know waiting for me when my vocals are done
Tote the gun, my way of life and it works
These cowardly niggas'll put your fucking life in the
Cause it was wrong how they left my dog, he was
in the streets, bleeding, staring, laying lifeless
That's why I'm heated, you never who starts creeping
Waking you up with AK's you lie sleeping
I'd rather the heat and not need it
Rather than need one and not have it, I this Glock-matic

You the sound when I'm spinning round
these rounds from four pounds
While the whole crowd screaming as
they mouths as they possibly allow?
Nothing is to making you carousel
Aerial somersault like wheels to a pair of shells
Denaun the nine where I go
Bullets and hit you while I'm shooting at 5-0
Some semi-automatic for static's the
Spitting like kids* from Colorado

This nine'll a softy to a hard rock
It'll make Witnesses, think before they knock (Sorry, sorry!)
It'll make your grandmother outta her purse
It'll make Limp Bizkit, get rid of Durst
It'll Holyfield start fighting
It'll make say fuck church and go back to writing
It'll Shyne say he sound like Biggie Smalls
make R. Kelly, give respect to Aaron Hall
It'll make Reeves start walking
make a dog with no voice, suddenly start barking
It'll a nun turn to a filthy slut
It'll make the hardest pitbull, to a fucking mutt
It'll a Muslim dye his hair blonde
make a redneck start to read the Holy Qu'ran (Need Jesus!)
It'll make Ike stop beating
It'll make Slim Shady fall back in with Christina