Luyện nghe bài hát Sick Of Hustlin

Ohh, JU-ICE, got my nigga Heron in the house
me tonight. Conglom in this bitch, Marvo
crew in this motherfucker, for real. Malik
when is you gonna holla at yo boy man? I you
what the truth was

I visualize a when we can stop hustlin
A dozen while we on the blocks rock smugglin
And little gray stones is so addictive
Niggaz even paid with they homes, is some shit
But in the hood, you either known or you bail them out of county
Shit, you either own them, or you them for a bounty
Some even do
Or crook it up too, shit all like Kukoc
All income, and still the block starvin
No monopoly, it's upscale gardens, not
The hood's real loaded up, my clip slaughter
No to walk, you lucky if the water works
As I move on, I to see the law love it
The hood's broken and I'm partially the of it
Very few get to start in this
like the trey payin for profit, it's hard to explain

I a lot of pounds, in and out of town
A nigga clown. *I'm sick of hustlin*
I moved a weight, through a lot of states
I could die today. *I'm of hustlin*
I moved a bricks, screwed a lotta chicks
Viewed a lotta whips. *I'm sick of
I break a lotta rules, I shake a lotta
I a lotta dues. *I'm sick of hustlin*

I'm sick of hustlin, I had enough of this
Stuffin the bricks, the cops, they try to me quick
And throw your face in the mud, why is you fuckers
Before I go to jail, homie up the fifth
so unfortunate, my actions brough me up to this
Just know there's other people me and they stuck in this
State of mind, the blind meetin the
Everybody get they from the grapevine
We could it but niggaz just hate tryin
I own the cops, I'm to witness a hate crime
make time, according to what the jakes find
Hustlin is like, squeezing grapes tryin to make
I'm tryin to bake a whole lotta bread and mine
I'm on the block, cops come, it's hit the time
Hop in the truck, and we hit the flyin
I try to stop but the hustler in me ain't

And Ma$e even said he bought a drop to on
But Ma$e ain't even go, a oxy moron
Bullets the chest of the innocent
Half the runners, only strip they ever get is in
My Heron, he goes to fight in Iraq
He get right back and have to fight
So you could go elsewhere, back, no healthcare
Wife on wellfare, they tell you to put yourself
So we 'caine, gangbang, remain sane
If it's even possible, a nigga maintain
We put bags of rocks in the hands of children
And conceal them while they're standing by buildings
The richer we get, the the hood
Tyson is but Oprah is good
the fo-fo, clutching it so so tight
I don't wanna have to hustle no more,