Luyện nghe bài hát Pistol Poppin

(guns cocking one gunshot)

Haha
[Ca$his:] Ca$his,
Yeah!
[Ca$his:] Mathers
C'MON!
[Ca$his:] poppin, come get me nigga! (echoes)

(Chorus: Ca$his)
Pistol poppin, droppin, layin all around
You thought it was a game, now the neighbors out
The police that, what's that sound?
you layin on the ground with your fuckin brain out

(Ca$his:)
Walk through the door with my on a gun
Cause niggaz 'round wanna ask where I'm from
I throw up my signs, step and pop one
you throw up your sign if you even got one
I used to bust heads open for fun
Chase him down, stomp him out, if he to run
I could flip packs, get stacks, big straps, it at?
Slung crack, real cat, you never did that
Go hard, no peace, I gotta keep, heat
I don't sleep, I'm watched by the police
Cops out patrolling, grab a
Sniper at the squad car, story
Fuck it if you beef, click-clack, wack rap
Tossed straps before, I'm out of here,
Militant in a sense, I don't give a shit
Call up, Eminem, I gotta innocent

(chorus)

(Ca$his:)
Sixteenth in my sneakers, I ain't to my teachers
I'm the most hated nigga alive, since
Maybe in the afterlife they'll my Christ-like abilities
Come back, then on my enemies
Never been afraid of beef, of my bravery
War situations got you sayin he, G
And emerge with the beat, I can serve
Especially anybody tryin to diss my team
[blam] G-Unit, Aftermath the thing
So if you say them nigga you say me
I be in L.A. G, get at me you see me
Catch you in O.C., and in the bag you'll be
I ain't worried my freedom cause for me to get even
Is e'rything, it's on B.B.G.N.
I son'd you folk, I'm at your pinkie
You a fake-ass gangsta, a waste of my scenery

(chorus x2)

(Eminem:)
Maybe I just feel like there's too many in rap
(Ca$his) we gotta push 'em to the back
Move 'em along, push 'em aside, don't get me
I love the snaps and the claps into the song
It's got a but come on man, the raps
We all gotta our game up; especially these lame fucks
Who walk around with chest out
tryin to be down with anybody who's left now
Better be with them, huh
But I dare some bitch to say somethin about,
Cause I'm not in the mood to be playin around with
I seen two friends get shot in the head
And lay on the ground this year and, one didn't it
Proof, you are the
Please don't let us come to face with these boo-boo-hoo
Fake-ass tattooed
Fif' please 'em right now how hard it has been
For me to try and, out it
But they just won't quit runnin mouth
At least there's a gun in it; son of a bitch!
We all got shooters, yeah these who doesn't?
And as far as the and claps, I wasn't
Dissin the South, that isn't what is about
I so sick of the beef, I don't even wanna see anymore

(chorus x2)