Luyện nghe bài hát Sicc & High

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

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

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