Luyện nghe bài hát Regardless

Yeah, ha B.K. C.I.
Yo

You rolled up in a convenience store with a forty-four
And told the cashier to to the floor?
But you take anything but a bag of chips
A half gallon of milk, juice, and a box of grits?

Nah but I might walk up in Kroger, head for the DVD's
'bout four of 'em in my cargo, smile and flee with ease
Then hit up the Target, exchange 'em for store credit
That's sixty dollars of grub, some squares and a case of Bud

Yo, yo you ever your money in some Internet stock?
how your cheese multiply quicker than sellin' rocks?
I invest in pharmaceuticals Xanax and Loritabs
Take 'em all with alcohol, then hunt for some to grab
Yo, you ever had a chick with no brains, but liked to 'em
had the nerve to ask you to scream her name while you hit it?

Haha, nah but I know this Betty who licks ass for her
She also takes golden showers and drinks the from out my toilet
And when time for the deployment of doo-doo from out my anus
She likes to catch it in her and lick the excess from her fingers

Yo, you ever tried to a car with a personal check?
Have your lady call you a dog, and you to the vet?
Ever in trouble with the cops, for more than three times
From tryin' to sell digital video cameras to the

Man fuck a car, I live on New Jersey drive
Athens Georgia, three-oh-six-oh-five, that no lie
And my girl don't even speak 'cause I get violent when I
But it's 'cause she don't talk, I need some silence when I think

About the thirty-three the law tangled me up
With chunky tray, legs up, stuck, we fuck
Well screw 'em they ain't to stop these Sparxxx from flyin'
If Bubba ain't the truth that just mean that my heart is

No what you ask me, I'm givin' you Bubba Kay
the truth of the matter okay? Fuck what you say
Nuttin' more nuttin' less, I'ma get it off my
C.I., spit what I feel,

No what you ask me, I'm givin' you Bubba Kay
Just the of the matter okay? Fuck what you say
more nuttin' less, I'ma get it off my chest
C.I., what I feel, regardless

Would you rather move two thousand units and be acclaimed
Or sell two million out the gate and be lyrically lame?
In words, would you prefer to have dem mics in The Source
Or a Grammy, some jazzy broads, a little ice and a

I ain't gon' lie, I'm tryin' to sell million out the gate
And get six in The Source off of lyrical force
And a custom made Porsche and a Range with the woodgrain
And spit verses sharp enough to cut straight to your

Well, you ever fucked a chunky broad, three hundred plus up
And actually took some pride to the shit, and didn't rush
Yo, when it comes to big chicks, C.I. plead the
'Cause I only weigh a buck-fifty and I own a forklift
Man have you snorted coke 'til your heart sat in your throat
Then took whole advance to buy more, and woke up broke?

Yo, C.I. don't do drugs, I hang out with thugs
That transport microchips and rugs
Then sell 'em on the streets for as as they can
The coke I mess with comes in sixteen ounce cans

But would ever consider dancin' with the for paper?
Fly me and Fred Durst on an embezzlement caper?
Would you bet on the Lakers if Jordan for the Clippers
Or leave yo' girl and move to with a stable of strippers?

Yo, I dance with the devil, the stocks are too hot
And if Jordan played for the Clippers I'd claim Cali like
And I'm not embezzlement, I like hostile takeovers
jets, BMW's and Range Rovers

'Cause they're tax writeoffs, all business expenses
And as far as stripper, yo I let my man hit her
C to the I, Central
And if I did her believe me you wouldn't find a trace of evidence

No matter what you ask me, I'm you Bubba Kay
Just the truth of the matter Fuck what you say
Nuttin' more nuttin' less, I'ma get it off my
C.I., what I feel, regardless

No matter what you ask me, I'm givin' you Kay
Just the truth of the matter Fuck what you say
Nuttin' more nuttin' less, I'ma get it off my
C.I., spit I feel, regardless

No matter what you ask me, I'm givin' you Kay
Just the truth of the okay? Fuck what you say
Nuttin' more nuttin' less, get it off my chest
C.I., spit I feel, regardless

No matter you ask me, I'm givin' you Bubba Kay
Just the truth of the okay? Fuck what you say
more nuttin' less, I'ma get it off my chest
C.I., spit I feel, regardless

Yeah, C.I., and Sparxx, nonsense
I in conclusion, it could be said
no matter where the fuck I'm at
No matter who the fuck I'm

I'ma do what the I do
walk leave it or love it I don't give a fuck
Now I with a motherfucker like C.I.
'Til we both bleed we can't bleed no more
Just 'cause I know he'll do same type of shit

The East, the West, don't forget about the
forget about the motherfuckin' South
Kay worldwide, ay
Venice to Venezuela,
Y'all know what the fuck it is