Luyện nghe bài hát Smoke 50 Cent

[50
Yeah, I like the way this
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
the shots or die nigga

Get 'em Banks!

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

Uhh, I'm on that "Doggystyle" shit, man I don't a ho
Poppa wasn't 'round, so I had to let my know
Never stay at center, the back and let your money grow
Most them niggas wouldn't be if you was bummy yo
Southside Jamaica 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 another nigga's Dun-Dunn
We all know friendships turnin sour when you it
Some hate me in the hood, but I don't owe them niggas shit
Smilin all up my face I don't know them niggas sick
But I can care less, I'm on the Island and I'm gettin

[Verse Young Buck]
Walk it and talk it, spit it how I live it
Came the country, Dirty South get it nigga
try and question me, they run up in my ho-tel
They said there was a shootin, but they found no
New York hell they throwin niggas under jails
I got love for dem and I even from dere
Now a shot for dem boys on da block
I can feel pain nigga, I'm still in the game nigga
There's somethin bout the of a trey-pound
That make me pull up, hop out, and a nigga lay down
See every time we 'round, you hear some go off
And niggas get they chains snatched when they tryin to off
in broad day, we do it the mob way
And to find out, these niggas softer than Sade'
I'mma keep livin my with a pistol in my palm
And a wrist of ice, you can call me a Don motherfucker

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

[Verse 50 Cent]
I got a handgun habit, nigga I'll let you have it
When the shots go off, cops 50 back at it
I'm allergic to the feathers on bird-ass niggas (yea)
Front and I'll put your brains on that fast nigga
I a marksman, one spark and I spray shit
Nuff from that H-K, I don't play bitch (uh-huh)
like I'm militant, back on that gorilla shit
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 Times
Run home, turn to the sports section and your mind
It's crystal clear, you should feel that gat bust
First there's crime scene tape, then you end up in that hearse
We don't go to funerals, but go to your wake fam
Do your all banged up, you made a mistake man