Luyện nghe bài hát Rock N Roll (Fam-Lay)

[Verse 1:
Hmmm...yes
and roll, man roll and rock
I got tens, got twentys, got fifty
I got smoke to buy, coke for
Sold much coke, got in jail
In the white Rolls Royce my man Pharrell
This lil' nigga got beats too to be stale
But I'ma take you back to the eighties
When my Stacey had the pearl Mercedes
My aunt cousin Wack had the on black
Ac' Legend with the gold in the back
I was just a lil' runnin' wild as hell
Runnin' round trynta get that mail
Lil' shorty dudes trynta the grooves
I was twelve years old it to the school
I was quick to flip, quick to sell that shit
You ain't from the hood, y'all don't know bout

1]
But if you feel me, your bows up (Star Track)
Try to set up get glowed up
Hey, I'm the candyman, I got mo' than frozen
I got chop top sour diesel roll-ups
Fam! we can up (Star Track)
But Fam! don't try to up (Star Track)
Don't make me pull these motherfuckin' up
it's like that

[Verse 2:
The fiends is dyin', things is
Missin' on the streets, so the fiends is buyin'
on time and money on the mind and
On them twenty-fo's, them straight shinin'
But y'all niggaz don't know bout
Fresh new with the new outfit
Got the all top with the black on black
You ever see me creepin, back on back
Cause I got that and it is gon' spit
I ain't no and I ain't no snitch
From a place on Earth called
Where out there got love for real
Got for all who got love for me
If a coward ever ran it wasn't me
be on the curb movin' dubs and d's
And if you ever bought a dub it was for me
I ever get then it was to be
I'ma make bail by my cousin E
Back on the with the mobile phone
Like eleven in the mornin' hoes to go home
Trynta score and get shit off quick
You from the hood, y'all don't know bout this

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2]
Aww shit, is the part when the fight just start
When the get to swingin' and the four-fifths spark
And then the get to runnin' and the bitch just scream
And we spin off in Rolls and it's so damn

3: Fam-Lay]
I on my block, the cam on the spot
My hands in my pocket, both hammers is
Waitin' for a to just act up
My right hand big six, got my back up
Niggaz lookin' all jealous, mad as hell
like lil' girls, like tattle-tales
Mad cause my right hand bad as
I would've kept shootin', but I had a
See, I'm a crime boss three
Lookin' for a Nina Ross, she just can
Picked up my cash and all sweet
tried to snatch ass, knocked his heart off beat
Nigga talk trash the shit all sweet
Wont'cha all take the dogg, not off me
Hustlin's in my - you cannot stop it
on the block with life in my pocket
I'm trynta score and get this off quick
You ain't from the ghetto, y'all don't know bout

1]

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