Luyện nghe bài hát Rollin'

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

Why, I be like that? Why, must I pack the gat?
On my left, niggaz be rollin with the
Ready to get bust rounds upon some suckaz
Heard PPP and LOD is a bunch of crazy
Journey to the is on
The winner of the spittin bomb
The fuck you up lyrathon, you choose
to lose that title
Turnin vital suicidal, my idols, is my Uncles
who started weed outta bibles
Gave me a puff when I bust my rifle
Men-estration cycles, I give
your craziest nigga, I'll give stitches
Whateva, go crew for crew, blow for
Bang your headpiece and sniff the snow off hoe
I keep it

Ask man
How ugly do you to be to be a hardcore MC?
Niggaz be fooled by my plaques and my light complexture
My texture is bombin, destroyin da schools of the wack
From the Land of the Lost, you get
Listen to my veloc(ity), my crew's off
Yeah, more sneaky casino switches
Diggin ditches for all bitches
decimal figures, I'm gettin out diggers
Now my of truck is a Land
cause a much bigger
It pack two to three more
I hate a golddigger
Yeah, that microphone
I make opponents shit bricks like home
I the jacked cellular phone blown in three zones
Love and keep my nine millimis chrome
So it can shine up your
When I proceed to give you you need and clear spots like Sea Breeze
Wreckin your ass style
Twenty four seven
My crew chin check profile
(Rollin)

I'm the master of disaster, super maker
by nature, database maker
Play em out like Sega,
your blocks in patterns for about nine acres
Testes, crew wearin bulletproof and S's
Karl Kani down, can't hide the sounds
of a fo' (boo-yaa)
Givin you Six Flags, bustin merry go
But my stay ill with that unreal appeal
I be the raw water, my cheek bones outta have
below the opera
Smooth on the trigger for all you block
I be the key to
and rotate enemies at three buck sixty
Pick me, as your
Take the dove from battlefield son, fuck Pat Benatar
Run, for the hills
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 chills as he ate this nine mil
Mine kills two but my was sign sealed
And ready to deliver, but Money had me too
to for toast, soon as that nigga blink I broke ghost
Dash back to South Ave with dollar bill to smoke dope
I keep em