Luyện nghe bài hát Shotgun Fire

Dip-Set, uh
Jones, Status
nigga
You know the is what it is nigga
Watch ya step and ya moves

Shit, 'em believe in this prophecy
You can see I'm to lead my democracy
To get money and rip off of my city
And slow down, then try to breeze through the B
And how I speeds in
We came up keys of that knotty B
My man caught 10, couldn't find the keys to the B
The boys rushed him, 2 of mahogany
In my you can't see me, not possibly
How we swoop up in Harlem, 20
When we mobbin' 40 troops if it's
'Cause 1 nigga you know is a shotgun

Ready to dump triggers, that fire
I gone front nigga I shot some guys up
kill 'em though, fuck 'em though
And they back to my block like riders
But I'm like, "Crouching Tiger", spin, roll, and fire
A retally, now it's cash we tally
Miami, Atlanta, fuck it we to Cali
Back on L.A. Ave, you know the strip
Where Henny sip
Beef we let the rip

Mind on my money, my money on
Mind on my money, my money on
on my money, my money on mind
You wit' Dip-Set, I will press on this .9

Mind on my money, my money on
Mind on my money, my money on
on my money, my money on mind
You fuck wit' my paper, I'll press on .9

And yeah we world renowned and I twirl through town
And in a Dip-Set mansion is where ya be found
How can a be drowned, how can a diamond not shine
Man I'm on my G mack, I up dimes all the time
They my pimp juice, I let my crimps loose
They get a glimpse, oo, went and cinch douche'
Scoop her feed her feed her soup
fuck her, brain fuck her
Mouth screw her it hurt, uh, shit

She scream, "Do me it hurt", I'll her movin' that work
I mean two of chirps up in her Dooney and Bourke
So it hurts, I mean I'm truly bezerk
When I scoop up my man, I swoop up and murk
Yeah, a trick and a bag bitch, two bricks and a bad
Shit, them mackin', I'm as sick as maggot
But I don't fuck wit no bitch if she worth
No chips or no

on my money, my money on mind
Mind on my money, my on mind
Mind on my money, my on mind
You fuck wit' Dip-Set, I will press on .9

on my money, my money on mind
Mind on my money, my money on
on my money, my money on mind
You fuck wit' my paper, press on this .9

I'm so
And do to Harlem-matics
My and fortune still revolve wit' static
Still involve wit' savage types move drugs
365 all set every nite
I ain't the type
On the benches where I them nites
Blowin' hemp, slabs of white
days up in court
How I weight to snort
Give that to the press or Dave Mays in the

Yes, since success it has
Since we, stepped up in this
And stepped up our game
No more chef cain
X'd up in they brain
Lemme sex up in the
So much cuts in my chains

Mind on my money, my money on
on my money, my money on mind
Mind on my money, my money on
You fuck wit' Dip-Set, I will on this .9

Mind on my money, my money on
on my money, my money on mind
Mind on my money, my on mind
You fuck wit' my paper, I'll on this .9