Luyện nghe bài hát Smoke 50 Cent

[50
Yeah, I the way this feel
This make me just (G-G-G-G, G-Unit!)
somethin, hahaha (G-UNIT!)

[Hook: 50
you shit on me, I shit on you
You put a hit on me, I put a hit on you
An eye for an eye
the shots or die nigga

Get 'em Banks!

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

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

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

[Interlude:
We got the
So one wrong move and you're dy-ing
Ain't no time for a plea and cry-ing
Cause my niggas ain't gon' stop
So you

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