Luyện nghe bài hát So Good

I'm as real as they come, I the rules
I'm still in the hood but I probably should
Made enough money, I f-ck around
I just they needed me, so I stuck around
Feds got my man, is real son
Cause my god son just became my son
Think life is a game but all you get is a
You live and you learn, you freeze or you burn
in the air, I'm pushing the gears
Love into hate, hate turned into fear
If it aint right, I don't sign the
Shoot me in the watch, I got to kill
Gasoline, propane, aint no cap in the dope game
Aint no collective on cocaine
So in words nigga, do your thing

Mind in one place, in another
pardon my brother
He's just at you niggas who dont have your heart in your rap shit
And got too comfy, cause we still f-ckin hungry
Young Money, got the
Faded, faded, aww yeah im f-ckin faded
They tellin' about me, aww yeah I must've made it
Rikers on this flow, 8 months for that pistol
But at least they had some bad bitches workin' in that shit
Ahhh, 3 visits later, I went and did it
So f-ck the judge, and the jury, and the
Watchin all these kids who thought they had it out

And November came, they let my nigga out

[Lil
Stop playin, I with that bullshit
Niggas act like bitches. Shanaynay, oh my
This is Wayne's World, and are just some tourists
Give me three wishes, I wish, I wish, I wish, you would
Brand new p-ssy, p-ssy good as baby
Two 40?s, nigga you got 80 problems
Swimmin' in the money, Imma need some goggles
Its to give, but we dont give a f-ck about 'em
I came home, shit then got real hoe
Lil Weezy-ana, the nigga, steal toe
I aint workin a full deck but I deal hoe
I touched down, kick the motherf-ckin field goal
Talkin 'bout baby I got your baby money
Kidnap your bitch, get that 'how much you your lady' money
I know you fake nigga, press your brakes
I'll take you out, that's a date
Im a grown ass blood, stop with me
Play asshole and get an ass
I think you pussy cat ha, hello
I throw the alley-oop to Drake Griffin
I lay em down,
This shits a game of chess, you think its cleavage
Its money, yeah 'tis the season
I give you the business, bitch this a meeting
My hungry, my bitches greedy
I die a bloody murder? Dear Mr. Ouija
Nigga, Im straight, my a faggot
Potato on the barrel, pop pop salad