Luyện nghe bài hát Rec-Room Therapy

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

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

The acid, bubbled up, now they stomach's 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, Stan
The housing can suck our dicks, we jumping out
Of convertible shit, next drip inhaling
Chilling, my frozen, my orange brick

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

I this, practice, smuggle heroin in the cactus
Keep a hood, I still go and fuck a fat
Actress, slinging the backs of five
A cocaine Chef, I stretch money like
Nigga, my raps is bigger, 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 since eighteen, kid, polo rugs on with gloves on
Rented cars, fronting on broads
Gum slow, half moon, pants, Avia days
Keep your hands off my and my waves

Benetton, Superman bomb, everybody in the lobby, we
on, protecting your moms, you know how we play
Spray something down if the say
It's on, I dedicate my to the PJ's
Triple beams, Pyrex jars, smoking nickle
All we did is mad fly, icicle rings

Whatever homeboy, you it, you could get your receipt
A little closer, you can sense we got
It's only me plus four ill gangstas
We all anxious to blow up block 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, sick the on 'em
I rip clowns, I flip pounds, I rounds
I'm on the prowl, my stomach growl, by the crowd
Rush through Loud Records, mushroom clouds
I'm not a rapper, I'm spellbound, I melt your G-Force
With walks, free falling to a better money, bet he's hungry

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

Double me, lift your boss off your feet, 'course he's feather
Whatever, whatever, he cried
Tennis players get fried, both sides of the ends
Keep eyes on your 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)