Luyện nghe bài hát Smoke 50 Cent

[50
Yeah, I like the way feel
make me wanna just (G-G-G-G, G-Unit!)
Buck somethin, (G-UNIT!)

50 Cent]
Nigga you on me, I shit on you
You put a hit on me, I put a hit on you
An eye for an eye
Survive the shots or die

Get 'em Banks!

[Verse One: Lloyd Banks -
They hold me
I'm Lloyd the one and on-ly
Not your buddy, not your pal, not ho-mey
But ain't a government around that can me
Oh no!!!

Uhh, I'm on that "Doggystyle" shit, man I love a ho
wasn't 'round, so I had to let my brother know
Never stay at center, the back and let your money grow
Most them wouldn't be around if you was bummy yo
Southside neighbor yeah that's where I come from
If you see a nigga with me there's more than one gun
Fly straight soldier, tired of bein the dumb one
Or are you satisfied bein another nigga's
We all friendships turnin sour when you gettin it
Some niggas hate me in the hood, but I don't owe them niggas
all up my face like I don't know them niggas sick
But I can care less, I'm on the Island and I'm rich

[Verse Young Buck]
Walk it and talk it, spit it how I live it
Came from the country, Dirty South get it
Feds try and question me, run up in my ho-tel
They there was a shootin, but they found no shells
New York City hell they niggas under jails
I got love for dem and I ain't even from
Now a shot for dem boys on da block
I can feel pain nigga, I'm still in the game nigga
There's somethin the sound of a trey-pound
That make me up, hop out, and make a nigga lay down
See every time we 'round, you some shots go off
And niggas get they chains snatched when tryin to show off
Shootouts in day, we do it the mob way
And come to find out, these niggas softer than
I'mma keep livin my life a pistol in my palm
And a full of ice, you can call me a Don motherfucker

singing]
We got the
So make one wrong move and you're
no time for coppin a plea and cry-ing
Cause my niggas gon' stop ridin'
So you

[Verse Three: 50
I got a handgun habit, nigga I'll let you have it
the shots go off, cops sayin 50 back at it
I'm allergic to the feathers on these niggas (yea)
Front and put your brains on that curb fast nigga
I ain't a marksman, one and I spray shit
rounds from that H-K, I don't play bitch (uh-huh)
Move like I'm militant, back on that gorilla
Moody, disrespectful, unruly, but niggas move me (yea)
I squeeze 'til I run out of ammo, if it's a problem it's
I have your people pourin our liquor and candles
You fuck around I blow your brains on my New York
Run home, turn to the sports section and read mind
It's crystal clear, you should feel that gat bust
First there's crime tape, then you end up in that black hearse
We don't go to funerals, but go to your wake fam
Do your body all up, you made a mistake man