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 to drop to the floor?
But you didn't take anything but a bag of
A half of milk, some juice, and a box of grits?

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

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

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

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

Man purchasin' a car, I live on New Jersey drive
Georgia, three-oh-six-oh-five, that ain't no lie
And my girl don't even speak 'cause I get violent I drink
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 tray, legs up, stuck, thinkin' we fuck
Well screw 'em they ain't enough to stop these from flyin'
If Bubba the truth that just mean that my heart is lyin'

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

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

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

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

Well, you ever fucked a broad, weighin' three hundred plus up
And actually some pride to the shit, and didn't rush none?
Yo, when it comes to big chicks, C.I. the fifth
'Cause I only weigh a buck-fifty and I own a forklift
Man you ever snorted coke 'til your heart sat in your throat
Then took whole advance to buy more, and woke up broke?

Yo, C.I. do drugs, I hang out with corporate thugs
transport microchips and oriental rugs
Then sell 'em on the streets for as as they can
The only coke I mess with comes in ounce cans

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The East, the West, don't forget the South
Don't about the motherfuckin' South
Kay worldwide, ay
Venice to Venezuela,
know what the fuck it is [Incomprehensible]