Luyện nghe bài hát Rollin'

Nineteen ninety mother six
That's shit though
Get the motherfuckin packed
We got to pull these shoes out carpet, word is bond
Test the crew with the guns and let's get this on

Why, must I be that? Why, must I pack the gat?
On my left, niggaz be rollin the ruckus
Ready to get deep bust upon some suckaz
PPP and LOD is a bunch of crazy motherfuckers
Journey to the is on
The winner of the bomb marathon
The fuck you up lyrathon, you choose
to lose that title
Turnin situations suicidal, my idols, is my Uncles
who started smokin weed outta
Gave me a when I bust my first rifle
cycles, I give bitches
Bring your craziest nigga, give stitches
Whateva, go crew for crew, blow for
Bang your headpiece and sniff the snow off hoe
I it rollin

Ask man
How ugly do you to be to be a hardcore MC?
Niggaz be fooled by my plaques and my skin complexture
My whole texture is bombin, destroyin da schools of the
From the Land of the Lost, you get
Listen to my veloc(ity), my crew's off
Yeah, more sneaky than switches
Diggin ditches for all Moskino
decimal figures, I'm gettin out diggers
Now my choice of truck is a
cause a Landcruise much
It pack two to three niggaz
Damn I hate a
Yeah, gimme that
I make opponents bricks like Tyson's home
I keep the cellular phone blown in three zones
Love seafood and my nine millimis chrome
So it can up your dome
When I to give you what you need and clear spots like Sea Breeze
Wreckin ass armaggedeon style
Twenty four seven
My crew check your profile
(Rollin)

I'm the master of disaster, super rhyme
Grimy by nature, maker
em out like Sega, Saturn
Blow your blocks in patterns for nine acres
Testes, wearin bulletproof and double S's
Karl down, camoflouge can't hide the sounds
of a fo' (boo-yaa)
you Six Flags, bustin merry go rounds
But my crew stay ill with that appeal
I be the raw water, my cheek bones have gills
below the opera
Smooth on the trigger for all you cockers
I be the key to
Blast and rotate at three buck sixty
Pick me, as your
Take the dove from your battlefield son, Pat Benatar
Run, head for the
Back in the day, these rolled up on me with
the trunk filled with Bomber Brooklyns, and quartervilles
Aiyyo take that shit, aiyyo snap the grill
Body caught chills as he ate this mil
Mine kills two but my nine was sign
And ready to deliver, but had me too close
to for toast, soon as that nigga blink I broke ghost
Dash back to South Orange Ave with dollar to smoke dope
I em rollin