Luyện nghe bài hát Smoke 50 Cent

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

[Hook: 50
Nigga you shit on me, I 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]
They hold me
I'm Lloyd Banks the one and
Not your buddy, not your pal, not ho-mey
But ain't a government around that can me
Oh no!!!

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

[Verse Two: Young
Walk it and it, spit it how I live it nigga
Came from the country, South get it nigga
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 throwin under jails
I got love for dem and I ain't from dere
Now bust a shot for dem on da block
I can feel pain nigga, I'm still in the game nigga
There's somethin bout the sound of a
make me pull up, hop out, and make a nigga lay down
See every time we 'round, you hear some 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, these niggas softer than
I'mma keep livin my life with a 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 dy-ing
Ain't no time for a plea and cry-ing
Cause my niggas ain't gon' ridin'
So you

[Verse Three: 50
I got a handgun habit, front I'll let you have it
When the shots go off, sayin 50 back at it
I'm allergic to the feathers on these niggas (yea)
Front and I'll put your brains on that curb nigga
I ain't a marksman, one spark and I spray
Nuff rounds that H-K, I don't play bitch (uh-huh)
Move I'm militant, back on that gorilla shit
Moody, disrespectful, unruly, but can't move me (yea)
I squeeze 'til I run out of ammo, if it's a it's handled
I have your people pourin our liquor and candles
You fuck around I blow your brains on my New York
Run home, to the sports section and read your mind
It's crystal clear, you should feel that gat bust
First there's scene 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