Luyện nghe bài hát Sicc & High

Brotha
(Talking)
man, ya know, I was trying to tell you nigga man,
that nigga was out man. I did all kinds of shit,
for him and shit, and I help nigga outa bad situations, you know?
Cuz was man, I was like man.
Still was shit nigga, dirty ass songs about me and shit, you know.
Man, so I hit him back:

you tha, king of comedy,
and Ima be g thatz Ima be.
Let you see that at close range,
when I tap you the bang, wrap you up in cellophane (sphhhh).
be the endin, no pretendin,
siccmade and high crash?, do a drive by wide em.
Do or die by in em, get in em, any time, any where.
Cut through the like Chris Webber.
Better get it together nigga, I toughen up your leather a,
touch, shoot you in the neck, get my respect, you bet.
Might as well not sweat when I put these to your set,
and you, smokey like robinson.
My oozie 24 tons, and I got them,
niggas on rum in em, and 221s, you getted this done.
Thats why I my gun,
cause when you tappin into this gangsta shit you gotta yo gun.
niggas gon shoot, some niggas gon run.
Its all mathematical, bet off and get tragical?,
holding out the cadillac roam with the thangs,
to do ghetto thang, you know, cellophane.
To hit them thangs,
smash off in the cup where you get hedikane?
You watch that medic bring, black and gloves.
I be thug (why?), I made that decision a long time ago.
Drinkin 40s in dominoes,
goin through with hoes, you know how it goes.
I aint been doin no shows, aint steppin on no toes.
But the p11 9mm ruben (whats that?), is the I chose.
I need much cause Im clutch like shaq diesel,
and I love the way the ruben make people.
Catch em out the church steeple,
he did my people.
You know, paybacks to the degree,
and Im cript walkin to my funeral, so it no hearsin me.

Bouncin off to the turf, is A-Blocc,
Im posted pushin yayrocks?, to see through these niggas character.
They blasted like the glock, watch keeps lookin,
but I keep jookin, shit I know where gots his birdies cookin.
I probably em.
See the plots to get quicker, make my feddy thicker,
perkin off the finest liquors, pen, triggas get clutched.
I get my bucks man, MOB, money over bitches,
six straight rags with switches, got the takin pictures,
half half dope, invested my ism, is some pimp, hes upset with a hoe.
And her hump till my pockets got the mumps like gody?
Ask the little bitch, she said, oh hes a cody.
So D, pistols everything fake IDs.
I put hoes in shady niggas, left eatin through our piece.
Roll dese the ghetto, vogues smoked like indo.
High chases throwin choppers out the window.
Im by the task, and bitch ass niggas gun blast,
and all I ever was the cash.
Shit its like Im hunted but I still get blunted rollin the set.
Ima do my thing for now though, cause they killed me yet,
and if I die then I die, shit, dont shed a tear.
Im off where Im goin man, cause I aint happy here.
Got no fear, shit, them bruise like I bruise,
lose screws? like I do, nigga, how you choose nigga, ooh!