Luyện nghe bài hát Sicc & High

Brotha
(Talking)
Yeah man, ya know, I was trying to tell you man,
that nigga was out man. I did all kinds of shit,
for him and shit, and I help that outa bad situations, you know?
Cuz was trippin man, I was man.
Still was talking nigga, dirty ass songs 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 high crash?, do a drive by wide em.
Do or die by in em, get in em, any time, any where.
Cut through the lane Chris Webber.
Better get it nigga, I toughen up your leather with a,
touch, shoot you in the neck, get my respect, you bet.
as well not sweat when I put these flames to your set,
and leave you, like robinson.
My weigh 24 tons, and I got them,
niggas on rum in em, and those 221s, you getted done.
Thats why I my gun,
cause when you tappin this gangsta shit you gotta pack yo gun.
niggas gon shoot, some niggas gon run.
Its all mathematical, bet off and get tragical?,
holding out the roam with the metal thangs,
to do ghetto thang, you know, cellophane.
To hit them thangs,
off in the cup where you get that hedikane?
You watch that medic bring, bags and gloves.
I gotta be thug (why?), I made that decision a long ago.
Drinkin 40s in dominoes,
goin drama with hoes, you know how it goes.
I aint been doin no shows, aint been 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 love the way the make dead people.
Catch em out the church steeple,
he did my people.
You know, to the first 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 right through these character.
They like the glock, neighborhood watch keeps lookin,
but I keep jookin, I know where Pablo 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, thats money bitches,
six straight rags switches, got the feds takin pictures,
half heart half dope, invested my ism, is some pimp, hes upset a hoe.
And made her till my pockets got the mumps like gody?
Ask the bitch, she said, oh hes a fuckin cody.
So D, pistols everything fake IDs.
I put hoes in niggas, left them eatin through our piece.
Roll through the ghetto, vogues smoked like indo.
speed chases throwin choppers out the window.
Im wanted by the task, and ass niggas gun blast,
and all I wanted was the cash.
Shit its Im hunted but I still get blunted rollin through the set.
Ima do my thing for now though, cause they killed me yet,
and if I die then I die, shit, dont even a tear.
Im better off Im goin man, cause I aint happy here.
Got no fear, shit, them niggas like I bruise,
lose screws? I do, nigga, choose how you choose nigga, ooh!