Luyện nghe bài hát Smoke 50 Cent

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

[Hook: 50
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: Lloyd - singing]
They can't me
I'm Lloyd Banks the one and
Not your buddy, not your pal, not your
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 'round, so I had to let my brother know
Never at center, play the back and let your money grow
Most niggas 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 then 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 owe them niggas shit
Smilin all up my face like I don't know niggas sick
But I can care less, I'm on the and I'm gettin rich

[Verse Two: 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 found no shells
New York City hell they throwin niggas under
I got for dem and I ain't even 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 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 hear some go off
And niggas get they chains snatched when they tryin to off
Shootouts in day, we do it the mob way
And come to find out, these softer than Sade'
keep livin my life with a pistol in my palm
And a wrist full of ice, you can me a Don motherfucker

singing]
We got the
So one wrong move and you're dy-ing
Ain't no time for coppin a 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
the shots go off, cops sayin 50 back at it
I'm allergic to the feathers on these niggas (yea)
and I'll put your brains on that curb fast nigga
I ain't a marksman, one spark and I spray
Nuff from that H-K, I don't play bitch (uh-huh)
Move like I'm militant, back on that gorilla
Moody, disrespectful, unruly, but can't move me (yea)
I squeeze 'til I run out of ammo, if it's a problem handled
I your people pourin our liquor and lightin candles
You fuck around I blow your brains on my New York
Run home, turn to the sports section and your mind
crystal clear, you should feel when that gat bust
First there's crime scene tape, you end up in that black hearse
We don't go to funerals, but we'll go to your fam
Do your body all up, you made a mistake man