Luyện nghe bài hát Rollin'

Nineteen mother fuckin six
That's that shit
Get the Squad packed
We got to pull these shoes out like carpet, is bond
the crew with the guns and let's get this shit on

Why, must I be like Why, must I pack the gat?
On my left, niggaz be rollin with the
Ready to get deep bust rounds upon suckaz
Heard PPP and LOD is a bunch of motherfuckers
to the land is on
The winner of the spittin marathon
The fuck you up lyrathon, whatever you
prepare to lose that
vital situations suicidal, my idols, is my Uncles
who smokin weed outta bibles
Gave me a when I bust my first rifle
cycles, I give bitches
Bring your nigga, I'll give stitches
Whateva, go crew for crew, for blow
Bang your headpiece and the snow off your hoe
I it rollin

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

I'm the master of disaster, super maker
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 Kani down, can't hide the sounds
of a fo' (boo-yaa)
you Six Flags, bustin merry go rounds
But my crew ill with that unreal appeal
I be the raw water, my cheek outta have gills
like the opera
Smooth on the for all you block cockers
I be the key to
Blast and rotate enemies at buck sixty
Pick me, as your
Take the dove your battlefield son, fuck Pat Benatar
Run, head for the
Back in the day, these niggaz rolled up on me
the trunk filled with Bomber Brooklyns, and quartervilles
Aiyyo take that shit, aiyyo snap the grill
Body caught as he ate this nine mil
Mine kills two but my nine was sealed
And ready to deliver, but had me too close
to reach for toast, soon as that nigga blink I ghost
Dash back to South Orange Ave with dollar bill to dope
I em rollin