Luyện nghe bài hát Rec-Room Therapy

Ight, now, this is how we gon' do this
You what I'm saying? Niggaz wasn't out in the streets back then
When was doing this shit son, you what I mean?
Yeah, the story

I done bags of powder down project toilets
You could of of me on the steps dusted, unable to call it
Jums in my pocket, the was stolen, tapping pockets
On the local drug dealers, just to see they holding
I know, niggaz crack viles stuck to they colon

The acid, done bubbled up, now they is swollen
That just, in the hood, surrounded class, who we bag in our stash
The haze, we hit it and pass
We toast to the of old days, yeah, old ager hump
We rap renegades, stay paid

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

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

Big fluffed out gooses on, Smiths
The housing cops can our dicks, we jumping out
Of convertible matchbox shit, next inhaling
Chilling, my throat frozen, my brick

of Cru, bitches with Baby Phats, they swinging ax
They singing, you still blinging, daddy, now it back
The rap niggas, honey, I'mma need a match
To the game wide open, I'mma 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 money like elastic
Nigga, my raps is bigger, with the muscle advantage
Jake on dust, when I blam shit

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

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

Yo, we been bagging since eighteen, kid, polo rugs on gloves on
cars, fronting on winning broads
Gum slow, half moon, pants, Avia days
Keep your off my blunt 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, icicle

Whatever homeboy, you want it, you could get receipt
A little closer, you can we got heat
It's only me plus four 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 down for the get down, hit the town, the bloodhounds on 'em
I rip clowns, I flip pounds, I spit
I'm on the prowl, my stomach growl, by the crowd
through Loud Records, drop mushroom clouds
I'm not a rapper, I'm spellbound, I melt down G-Force
With heat walks, free falling to a better money, bet hungry

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

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

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

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