Luyện nghe bài hát Sick Of Hustlin

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

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

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

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

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