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 move
enough money, I don't 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 is a game but all you get is a turn
You live and you learn, either you or you burn
Kush in the air, I'm the gears
Love turned hate, hate turned into fear
If it aint right, I don't the deal
Shoot me in the watch, I got to kill
Gasoline, propane, aint no salary cap in the dope
Aint no collective bargaining on
So in other words nigga, do thing

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

And then November came, they let my out

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