Luyện nghe bài hát Shot Down

Grr, arf! Arf!

Move on over, I told ya boy
I'm a G-Unit soldier boy
And you gon' get it in your brain
The wide open and the dog's off the chain

I be that yung'n with that gun-ness, ya stop frontin'
I be that yung'n on the run, after I pop
In the Bible I read, death is of the
And if you talk about death death is gon' come
Dave me how to flow, they shot him in the head
Randy ass was there, now he runnin'
say I'm gangsta, some say I'm crazy
If you ask me say I'm what the hood made me
Now I can stunt 'til my ass dead like JD
Or put a hundred grand on nigga head that play me
See I'm cool them Haitian mob niggas
They say sak nap boule and rob niggas
The media be tryin' to make a nigga look bad, up with that?
See my flick, next to Papi and Cat
And Montana, I 'em with the grammar
I in the slammer after bangin them hammers
X up? (aight!)

You don't live that, you say that
Cause what come out mouth'll get you SHOT, DOWN
Throwin your around and we don't play that
Get in our get you SHOT, DOWN (nigga)
We know you hang, we know where you stay at
That you on'll get you SHOT, DOWN
a few clips that you shouldn't play with
G-Unit, Ryders'll get you SHOT, DOWN

Aye yo, fuck y'all talkin' bout, think you playin' wit?
Double are, G-UNIT, the same ol' (what!)
Put the fagots in the ring, watch 'em all
All y'all niggas is pussy, my dick!
Ain't but a handful of man still standin'
I remember 50 in a cypher when was "Slammin" (aight?)
Now we meet again, all good my nigga
Back to the street again, it's all hood my
Knock on wood my nigga, we both the dog
We ain't get to we at by luck, shit was hard (aight?)
But once we got through the trials all smiles
'til a big type nigga all of a get wild
Now why you gotsta go and me back to where I came from?
I'ma make you remember, where you my name from (YYea!)
Street, and blaow-blaow Ave.
I done ran through crew and only let off half, nigga!

Yeah, word,
If your head ain't offa your (uh-huh)
You ain't get shot, you got nigga (just nicked)
Cause if my chrome hit a piece of bone
It's gon' do more than chip, nigga (a lot more that)
Yea, what the is the problem
The Porsche is red the is Army
30 shot the gutter is starvin (yea)
Niggas like me might your apartment (word)
Bloodstains'll up your carpet, brain on the window
I smell every time that the wind blow
Tie him to the chair and knock out his chinbone
I don't want the throne or the crown, I sellin up
You can have the jail or the ground, you ain't in hell
I'm the one that the gutters
tap your man, and let him know P'll love to cut his
And niggas is shot down, two guns up
Double are, S.P. holdin' D Block