Luyện nghe bài hát Rec-Room Therapy

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

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

The acid, done bubbled up, now they is swollen
That just, life in the hood, class, who we bag in our stash
The haze, we hit it and pass
We toast to the Ghost of old days, yeah, old hump
We rap renegades, must 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 suck our dicks, we out
Of convertible matchbox shit, next inhaling
Chilling, my frozen, my orange brick

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

I juggle this, practice, smuggle in the cactus
Keep a hood, I go and fuck a fat bitch
Actress, slinging the of five Cleopatra's
A cocaine Chef, I stretch money elastic
Nigga, my is bigger, dynamics with the muscle advantage
Jake Cutler on dust, when I 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
Rented cars, on winning broads
Gum slow, half moon, leather pants, Avia
Keep your hands off my and my waves

Benetton, bomb, everybody in the lobby, we clapping
Hats on, your moms, you know how we play
Spray something if the team say
on, I dedicate my lines to the PJ's
Triple beams, Pyrex jars, smoking nickle
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 me plus four other ill gangstas
We all anxious to blow up your and spank shit

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 growl, crushed by the crowd
Rush Loud Records, drop mushroom clouds
I'm not a rapper, I'm spellbound, I down your G-Force
With heat walks, free falling to a money, bet he's hungry

Spread the honey, big head the Humvee
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 ugly I fuck
I'm hard like a jungle hunter, off in Heather

Double cross me, lift your boss off feet, 'course he's feather
Whatever, whatever, he cried
Tennis get fried, playing both sides of the ends
Keep your eyes on your friends, 'cuz they spy for the
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)