Luyện nghe bài hát Rhonda

KD had called and gave me the
this nigga had ten birds, in Augusta for the week
From the islands, as as K told me this shit, I started smiling
all I could see was money piling, shit, on top of money
Now, can't you come up with the money for the week, and
The heat made my nigga a break
If I catch all 10 of them bitches, and I don't look suspicious
I'ma sell the quart for the A.A., ha ha

As I told K bye bye, he shot me
If you gone do it do it nigga, fuck thinking twice
is ya nigga for life, go fight 'em fire for fire
Hit my hip when you finish said his calling expired
up the phone, contemplating on who help me do it
There's Kia and and then Rhonda truitt
Now Jessica to stupid and Kia lie to
I guess take Rhonda, 'cause Rhonda don't give a fuck

But I got to pump her up, I'm give her what, 10 g's
Tell her if she love me she would do this for me
Eternally we'll be together for or for worse
But first we got to take niggas to the hearse
Burst in they shit, get the bricks back out
I'm be in the Chevy, you know I'm ready to take em' out
If they front 'cha baby, come on, we make it we
Come on, shit, Rhonda, my down ass

Help me Rhonda,
Help, help me Rhonda,
Help me Rhonda,
Help, me Rhonda, help

me Rhonda, help
Help me Rhonda,
Help me Rhonda,
me Rhonda, help

Well, I'm the realist bitch, I'm mo realer than
Fuck dumb shit, it take nothing to a casualty
FBI be after me, quareter ki in my
Coming back from St. Croix, lady to Pastor Troy
Even I'm a Boy, 'cause boy I'm ready jack
All you got to say is where them pussy hangin' at
Drop it a maniac, set it off by myself
them pussy motherfuckers and who ever else

Okay baby, you set it off, there will be no more living
I'll be ready to tie the after we lick them for them blocks
Grab the glock, and shot out the lot, and on bustin'
Then I'm gone bust in and leave his punk ass fa' nothing
Now in store for you is 10 G's
enough for me, I don't give a fat fuck
What's the fucking up? About this time I saw a truck, to a familiar
K had them motherfuckers had a truck similiar

Passengers are him and her, playing reggae shit
Two a.k.'s, me and my bitch, one false we gone spit
Guess the driver he slick, dred head motherfucker
Guess he most be know my bitch, Rhonda them motherfuckers
owe 'em money, that what, with K.D. and Chesapeake
Heard that he spoke with me and now her folk wanna smoke me
If he had the keys all I can do now is
But for now me and filling 'em up with the thunder

Help me Rhonda,
Help me Rhonda,
me Rhonda, help
Help me Rhonda,

me Rhonda, help
Help me Rhonda,
Help me Rhonda,
me Rhonda, help