Luyện nghe bài hát Ral Mafia

I live the life of a hooler, ten pages
Turn and shoot 'em, concrete Buddha
We threw 'em in the to loose 'em
Streets with drugs, salute 'em with thugs

We to sleep on a rug
A never said, she loved or hugged us
It's just us, me and my two
I'm too

Plus new with .22's up in the bushes
We ride, G's
Menace to societies the real
a movie, the village

We filled with Chinese, essays, niggas,
Or go against the police, out like Napoleon
Grab the milli, my belly, catch new welly
Slugs in your Pelle, smell me

Since died
It's like the West coast died
But Regime be the realest alive, ride or die
So high am I, nigga you tell from the eyes

Blood red
The feds gettin' bread the pies
guys cops risk lay-off to stay off the block
Transportin' the Yay off

You off the top
Smoke-a-lot popular on the
For flippin' birds Nadia
Mafia, rap-a-lot

My nigga, my nigga, I'm to say to
You try to tell it can even it
It's about respect for God knows you was too
And the slap

We be the realest motherfuckers in the Rap
Mafia, you ain't ready for what we got for ya
I make a doctor ya
See, it ain't all records

We run the motherfuckin' streets in Houston,
We mobilize and we been high
Our die
When our pull a fry, fly

Like some motherfuckin'
we ride
It's caskets and con
Mob

Fuck peace, see it's all about
Put that Tek to you silent, you howlin'
I'ma creep upon ya, put it on ya
(Yeah, who)
bombs on ya like they did in Oklahoma

See ones that Nigga Yuk, somebody gon' die
You could took a try and kiss ass goodbye
You be found in your home Nigga, head blown from that
Fuck with me, I'm livin' nigga

Nigga remember me, I'm the one, get ya
You better pray that God has ya
Fuckin' round with the Mafia, you torn from you bitches
what, bustin' holes in you bitches

You better you vest, real tight bitch
The Mafia put it in you life bitch
Ain't no stoppin' up
The only bitch it down with the Mafia, rap-a-lot Mafia

sure wonder why I hang with these thugs
'Cause my Yuk, fuckin' these niggas up
Nigga, this rap-a-lot, till I die
Why? we ride

do or die
and .45's
9's
Right up your eyes

is gon' die, niggas come from the pound
Hummers and S-S's, to be a killer
Fill a nigga, body holes
Head the toe when he up

Blow up your whole head, quote us
And I'ma roll, with my niggas till the wheels
Clean up the car
And in this room we the world war

See the piece be the satellite from the 5th Ward
Command union, how we do it, how we do it the South
Texas roll real, swing wide 'em out
Double O and Yuk worldwide you talkin' about

See the .45's, see the big
Catchin' cases, hood erasers
Paper chasers with the 98, on steakes
in the bay with the Tek to place

Recognize the Mob bitch, all day this thug
up, trigger fingers for niggas that start shit
Creep this as I part quick, ride dope fiend, her with a tint
and vest's, born in California, killed down in Texas

Oh oh, your roll here come the po-po's
Anything can happen ridin' through execution
E-Rock the stupid fo', who's with this nigga Yuk
We the Mafia, squabble the gun, played out, ya

We mob figgers, we to take the whole out
At 50 all Black God
After that, we still gon' grind on the
To your motherfuckers mind

I pop the 9, you pop the 9
And all motherfuckers dyin'
We gon drive by, we up and do these niggas out the game
We sell 2 shot, and none left in the

'Cause it's rap-a-lot man
Is to be with man
who you talk to
We kill if that's what it's down to

Off with his motherfuckin' head the lead
Dead leave his shirt all real
it's motherfucker locked in your spot
Shot's be dropped, right here, right now

Paw, all the way tugged down town
Ride around town out pounds
City city fuckin' hoes
Yours ain't a lot act you know

with the city complete assassinater
With paper, blow up a nigga like sky pagers
major, save a whole out of not
Stop, if you think feelin' fin popped

can't stop, won't, don't stop
And we did hit the top
Rap-a-lot can't stop, won't, don't
And we did hit the top, mob

I be comin' through and niggas thinkin' I pissed off
I'm itchin' to get my off
I be trickin' them if trick off
All hands to get kicked off

Nigga I got 'em, fuck up your body when the touch down
Runnin' up on me you feel it, the and platinum bound
the nigga called Yuk, we brakin' bed and ballin'
Feds hollin', bloody bodies with no heads and calling momma nigga

Yo, who the Mob, her, rap-a-lot nigga
that John quicker
I missed the bomb
the palms, money is in my figures

With our
Snypaz be red dot
We the Mafia and Yuk your picture
So we're

Maybe you speakin', one
each other, smoke some
Po-po's pass to some
Rap-a-lot known from

We limits on niggas
We hold money bitches
Let the whole world recognize the
When it's bangin' rap-a-lot

The street's popular
your hood like helicopters
Say the wrong and I'll slaughter ya
Disrespect the Mob, young punkin' heads

Wishin' you was dead, in bed the next
Nigga what did I say, to make niggas act this way
Rich thugs got me mugs
to remind a motherfucker, about where I was

Nothin' but love my thugs
Get your 'cause
We laugh and drink when we rich, black and this spore
Nigga this Mafia

You ain't gotta come from street, 200 or Circle piece
It's all about do you
Rap-a-lot Mafia
Rap-a-lot on the

Recognize the Mob or get you ass on
No love to ones who
We taggin' motherfuckers
And we ain't even got a code

Just those, 1000 in front of Expo's
Waitin' on the next
So let's and let's go
Ain't no sissy survivin'

If you don't come with them you got a
Solve 'em, hit 'em the .44 revolver
Make an amount of what believe is right before his
like the doctor ordered

Dressin' your homies up in clothes
You took the shot, brought the black hoe
And that's cold, but that's the thing
Respect the Mob and Little J and the family