Luyện nghe bài hát Rec-Room Therapy

Ight, now, this is how we gon' do shit
You know what I'm saying? Niggaz out in the streets back then
When was doing this shit son, you know what I
Yeah, check the

I done flushed bags of powder project toilets
You could of found of me on the steps dusted, to call it
Jums in my pocket, the rental was stolen, tapping
On the local dealers, just to see what they holding
I know, niggaz with viles stuck to they colon

The acid, done up, now they stomach's is swollen
That just, life in the hood, surrounded class, who we bag in our
The ultraviolet haze, we hit it and
We toast to the Ghost of old days, yeah, old ager
We rap renegades, must paid

Get
(Get money)
Get money,
(Get money)

Get
(Get money)
Get money,
(Get money)

Big fluffed out on, Stan Smiths
The housing cops can suck our dicks, we out
Of convertible matchbox shit, next inhaling
Chilling, my frozen, my orange brick

of Cru, bitches with Baby Phats, they swinging ax
They singing, you still blinging, daddy, now it back
The smokest rap niggas, honey, I'mma a match
To bust the game wide open, need an axe

I juggle this, practice, smuggle in the cactus
a hood, I still go and fuck a fat bitch
Actress, slinging the backs of five
A cocaine Chef, I stretch like elastic
Nigga, my raps is bigger, dynamics with the muscle
Jake on dust, when I blam shit

Get
(Get money)
Get money,
(Get money)

Get
(Get money)
Get money,
(Get money)

Yo, we been since eighteen, kid, polo rugs on with gloves on
Rented cars, fronting on broads
Gum slow, moon, leather pants, Avia days
Keep your hands off my and my waves

Benetton, Superman bomb, in the lobby, we clapping
on, protecting your moms, you know how we play
Spray something if the team say
It's on, I my lines to the PJ's
beams, Pyrex jars, smoking nickle weeds
All we did is look mad fly, rings

Whatever homeboy, you it, you could get your receipt
A closer, you can sense we got heat
only me plus four other ill gangstas
We all anxious to blow up your block and spank

Get
(Get money)
Get money,
(Get money)

Get
(Get money)
Get money,
(Get money)

I'm for the get down, hit the town, sick the bloodhounds on 'em
I rip clowns, I flip pounds, I rounds
I'm on the prowl, my stomach growl, crushed by the
Rush through Loud Records, drop clouds
I'm not a rapper, I'm spellbound, I melt your G-Force
heat walks, free falling to a better money, bet he's hungry

Spread the honey, big inside the Humvee
Mix lead my lungies, spend bread on my Dungarees
And such and such, Ghost plugged me this slut
Please, don't hug me, bug me, I'm when I fuck
I'm hard like a jungle hunter, bust off in

Double cross me, lift boss off your feet, 'course he's feather
Whatever, whatever, he independence
Tennis players get fried, playing both of the ends
Keep your eyes on friends, 'cuz they spy for the feds
Watch me rise from the dead, I got ties with the

Get
(Get money)
Get money,
(Get money)

Get
(Get money)
Get money,
(Get money)