Luyện nghe bài hát Rack City

Yeah! Sourmilk,
L.A.
(Buzzin' on the ho!)

Alabama rich, I'm alabama
records
Ghetto Vision, hello I'm in, this bitch with hits
Big camera and, around I leave your momma with a candle lit
of candles lit, happy birthday me
Radioactive is a magnet for treats
New house, shoes
It's like all my opponents saw me and said lose
move!
Is it me? or the "let's choose"
Cause' I'm teaching the class, you slept through
So even the haters only instigating my
But a couple of that I won't say yes too
Like Mr Mr bob dobalina can I sick em for ya Bob?
Can I pick ya nina up, and pick off for ya from afar with the beamer?
Cause I seen him, a fault, he's a real cob cleaner
I shoulda been loose but I refuse to be an
You hate on me and you an o-bama-hater
Laugh at you chronic players, sit with a sonic laser, and you from Pluto with a soup bowl full of now-and-laters
Niggas can still see in the shot, I'm a power fader
these cowards without a doubt of my power
And take ya bitch without a shower til I'm sour til later, she still come back lying about the one that her momma gave her. (ugh!)
Everybody knows I'm a loose cannon, with a wick the size of a fuckin toothpick, better back up quick and assume the
What I gave this beat is a treat for a chief example
I got a way with tracks, a Chinese weave scandal
Back away the bicycle, tricyles fit you better
another cypher, better yet pick up rifle, and do ya self a favor
And kill ya self hoe!
And do it next to a so nobody gotta dig a hole.