Luyện nghe bài hát Sound Bwoy Bureill (remix #2)

Boom, bye, bye in a botty head
The shottie fly now, the botty ly like
2 dead to him chin, enemy a friend
the funk, I put the junk to an end

Now who da rude bwoy, wan come dogg
I find his and ID 'em in da morgue
I bet you thought I bust led
To prize, I'm a fortified blunt head just a dread

You can't tess the champion sound, you gettin' down
Recognize the boot camp click in a de
Gun thirsty bastard, always blasted
From the sess of chocolate, from my gastin'

You say you number one selecta
I say you and I wetcha
Keep the bull before I pull this trigga
you don't wanna tess me, when I'm tipsy off the liquor

Like a punk they call McGirt, got his hurt
Showed his colors, had to yank up his skirt
Now in misery, tryin' to cop a plea
Led to his head from gun number 3
See, lick off a shot you no dick
Lick a shot punani, not gun

Now everybody be dongongon
All New York niggas be talkin' but we be stalkin'
In the docks when the gun starts
But in the day, be wary of where you be

Don't, don't,
You ever 'bout you wan tess the champion sound
it to de people that can you know that can
When people see them a ball fa,

Me naw sex, me ruff the wicked you fe me
The motherfucker that be buggin' over you see
Original criminal run in town, crime
That's when I practiced your act, if you wan get

By my nine shot, come around my
Pon the night
In the box, Murderah, Botty bwoy killa
Golden filla, we 'bout to get illa/

Sound bwoy, ya got nuff reason to
Cummin' wit my troops, we to bury
pack ya dubs and move in a hurry
Ease off

at my pager, it's about that time
To up the 9 and do my derelict crime
Warriors, conquerors, the man ya
Mr. Ripper, AKA, the killa
My man wit the weed, is my man in
And all you niggas catch nots wit speed

Talkin' 'bout you have sound, ah, my you wan tess
You neva know when it comes to championship
Is we dat de management
And carry mack, use you for good use 'cuz wee de crew, leave

Laud, some bwoy wan get tonite, duke
As I retrieve the 2-5 from my
Target pon sight, trick up and
Adjust your pupils to see a dead walk

Nuff gwan die dis year
Here comes the bootcamp, it to the rear
It's the rain cummin' like a lickin' shots
More untouchable than wit de chicken pox

So emcees get lifted I'm spliffted
Nigga guard ya grill 'cause packs the biscuit
In the session, Smif-N-Wessun, see gun clapper number 1
Wit my D O G

We bring the realness, feel this boom, it's Black Moon reveal
We come to let you what the deal is
Straight up we serve justice, so if you be trusted
May you return where the is

There is many that's goin' around and goin' on
And gwan a clown but I'm tellin' you, clean up your act
And come to de 'cuz you a deadstock
From mornin' to de evenin', now everything