Luyện nghe bài hát Quiet Storm

[Intro:
been through it all man
Blood and tears
is dead and shit
What the else can happen yo
I don't think much son, word to mother yo
We done seen it all, and been it all yo
Let y'all niggas know now
Word to mother, for real, for
That is the truth
I'm not

[Verse 1:
I put my in between the paper's lines
I'm the quiet storm who fight rhyme
P, yeah you heard of him but I ain't with them
Nigga I pop more than you holding them
Make my route while the out and scold your men
Unload ten in broad daylight, get
Fuck your life, hop on my ninety-eight bike
You try to mines from growing, I'll make your blood stop flowing
Take affirmative to any ass if he asking
Now here the Mac 10
You's a blower
Trying to speak the language
What the drilly with though, it ain't banging
You hooked on Mobb-phonics,
to the Pop Dog like you got it
You ain't no wilding out for the fist thrower
Rusty shank holder, we this shit

Havoc]
Cause it's the shit, shit to make em feel shit
Lump em in the club shit, you wilding out when you bump this
to your eardrum, the raw uncut
Have a nigga OD cause it's enough

[Verse 2:
Yo the P rock inch cables, drinking white label
My chain hang down to my dick, my piece bang glass
and guns before the fame, duke
A nigga me hold Tecs
Are you the too
Going through the of gun holding
Long shotgun's my pants leg limping
Killa B you still living, my pops too
He taught me how to shoot when I was
I used to bust shots
I couldn't even look because the loud used to scare me
I my pops for that
I my nigga D-Black
I'll take the life of anybody trying to change left
And through all of a nigga ain't scared of death
All y'all brand new niggas just scared to
I spent too many nights sniffing coke getting
Wasting my life now I'm trying to make things
open some gates, invest in the rag business
Do things for the kids, the little
a jungle gym behind the crib, so they can enjoy youth
CBR's and
and big screen TV's nigga please
Don't make me have to risk my
We worked our life for this, you get your shit beat in

3: Prodigy]
It go one, two, three to the
That nigga P-Double got shit for y'alls
Peoples to rock to, stirring up of brew
In kitchen, I chef the impossible
To serve hot plates all across the states
Sit down and sup the top rap reps
We the that's watching boy, move diligent
You better like a nigga on a tightrope do
Infamous first infantry, division fourth mission
First assignment, give em that shit they missing
My new edition's way
that listen, get addicted to my diction
Fuck rhymes I prescriptions, for your disease
Generic rap's just not potent P's
One-thousand one-hundred CC's on the
I peel off, chest on Katanas
Spaghetti head Mobb is full bred
Fully blown melanin tone, I rock bone shirts
And verses, but thirst for worse
So I can put more out on the street
Get and love, all across the board
We've been adored for keeping it raw, nothing or more
I score every for sure
the rest of y'all niggas just nil