Luyện nghe bài hát Run Up On Ya

Yeah, run up on ya bitch
run up on ya bitch like

Lord, can I get a bad
High class whip, be the average
north west, that two seater Kardashian
Type to give me brain up in the red traffic
And keep ya up, that 2Pac blasting
Face two stacks and then be into this action
No time to relax, I someone to count this cash with
That match with, give me what I'm
The lady in the streets appear beast on that
That's it, you're the one I'm trying to mack with
But you be a liability of fat acid
How real is that ass miss? that shit backwards
Hit one back, crack the pussy a password
Bet that pussy's word is master
Ask her, my rocker til I made that astronaut
NASA[?], be that young fly, nasty one
Swallow the seeds, please, but you catch me slipping, hon

So just ride away
We die today
Got no time to
So roll with me, baby
or die
Always by your
the end of time
Driving me

First thing's first, I,
Freaks all the honeys, mommies, the playboy
The hoes love me, get down the money
know shit could get ugly, but whether it rain or sunny
Just worry, chinchillas in February
Vanilla, that's when you
the itinerary whenever it's necessary
Keep my baby straight, peep my lady
The to [?]
less it's planned and everything is in control
So hit the gas and go
It's no sleep til Brooklyn, beastie boy
And she just can't stop looking, she it raw
spitter and all and that's the word of mouth
And let her sit in the jaw
I'm so nasty, please just past me
So tempted to it, I gotta have it
We could be lavish so tell me, girl, right away
We could hit the bank then to the hideaway
Is you riding, riding me?
Is you
Is you riding, riding me?
Is you

So let's just away
We could die
Got no time to
So just with me, baby
or die
Always by your
Until the end of
Driving me

head in the whip, not crashing it
Feel of a [?] set, half Arabic
I sit in dove room candle lit
Tell mama handle it
Or you leave the sandals on and pull your skirt up
I really reading Word Up
Tiger beast, see me on the cover soon, fold out
Hanging on your shorties
I still be fucking half my age when I'm 44
skin, a winning personality
Hard dick, dollar salary
These cheating refs calling on me
the fucking whistle off in his ass, now hit the road, Jack
Hop off the bozack, the .44
You'll need low jack to define your back
Euros'll get down, you know
trunks and throwback
Yeah, you that

So let's ride away
We could die
Got no to waste
So roll with me, baby
or die
Always by side
the end of time
Driving me