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 shots dead to him chin, a friend
the funk, I put the junk to an end

Now who da rude bwoy, wan tess dogg
I his family and ID 'em in da morgue
I bet you never thought I led
To prize, I'm a fortified blunt head like a dread

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

You say you number one wicked
I say you punani and I
Keep the bull before I this here trigga
'Cause you don't wanna tess me, when I'm tipsy off the

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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