Luyện nghe bài hát Regardless

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

You ever rolled up in a convenience store a forty-four
And told the cashier to drop to the
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, straight 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
sixty dollars worth of grub, some squares and a case of Bud

Yo, yo you ever your money in some Internet stock?
Seen how your cheese multiply than sellin' rocks?
I invest in pharmaceuticals Xanax and Loritabs
Take 'em all with alcohol, then hunt for some more to
Yo, you ever had a chick no brains, but liked to give '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 the piss from out my toilet
And it's time for the deployment of doo-doo from out my anus
She likes to catch it in her hands and lick the from her fingers

Yo, you ever to purchase a car with a personal check?
Have 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 sell digital cameras to the blind?

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 'cause I get violent when I drink
But it's perfect 'cause she talk, I need some silence when I think

the thirty-three times the law tangled me up
With chunky tray, legs up, stuck, 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 matter what you ask me, I'm 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 what I feel,

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

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

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

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

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

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

Yo, I wouldn't dance the devil, the stocks are too hot
And if Jordan 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, all business expenses
And as far as stripper, yo I let my man hit her
C to the I, Central
And if I did touch her me you wouldn't find a trace of evidence

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., what I feel, regardless

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

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

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

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

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