Luyện nghe bài hát Southern Gangsters

He's a hustler, by law
A self-made
With a disregard for the haters
on Southern Gangsta

A true
CEO of Disturbing Tha Records
He his empire
Into multiple businesses

Includin' his food restaurant, Straits
sites, WeMix.com
And my favorite, MyGhetto.com
The MVP of rap shit

Luda, I'm a hustler, baller, gangsta, cap
I strapped like your neighborhood trap dealer
I got rifles that ya below ya bible belt
And that leave you wetter than Michael Phelps

But you'll be with the fishes
Softer than bitches washin'
Fool, the business?
I'm rich, so talk mo' figures
thirty large for cigars of you hoe niggaz

I got that'll rearrange ya whole face
And put your casket on ice, now a cold case
Never forget you come or that block'll bang you
I keep my ear to the streets like a cocker

I cock and you into outer space
Break bone in ya, you so out of place
without a trace, you a bluff to block
I got red beams, let's play connect the dots

He's the biggest boss, comin' outta the
Straight the port of Miami
To it trilla
in many heated acts of violence

This goes deeper than rap
He's worth eight
So young niggaz, up
I present to you, Ross, the boss

I got a letter the government the other day
I opened and read it, it said we want
Had a Lexus at eighteen, that
Got a Chevy pictures on it from pitchin' crack

Bitch I Haitians, we speakin' Creole
Bitch I'm a D-boy, still slingin'
I got twenty cars, why
It cost me five grand just to the gas tanks

Love the floors, got the Greek pillows
at awards, real street niggaz
I used to shake, now I serve steaks
squares on the road, call it third bass

Big ass face, chop you in your face
Shoot his ass, aim is the last case
Keep Jewish friends, the newest
You in a pool of blood, let me see you

Hailin' College Park, Georgia
figured they must have been some sort of mob
Or illegal
According to authorities, they a quarter mil' a week
[Incomprehensible]

They were some rollin' hustlers
Boi and Dolla Boy
Playaz aka the Duffel Bag Boys

Uh, I'm so sick I this verse in a hospital
It's an election year, I support
We like bicycles, icicle flow
White liquor, my nigga stay on line the blow

I'm on time with the flow, not a minute nor late
Ain't no such thing as second
And every day I live heavyweight, you featherweight
Fairytale niggaz really need to take a break

And the got a lake for a backyard
The pool room put it all on my sacks card
For Yeah, for real
I'm ill, I deal, I did, I

I got dogs Cujo, me and Tity two chains ridin' in a two do'
Bitches catch kudos, you
Yeah, we move weight like
And kicks it with them bitches like southside

Circle, Rick Ross, Ludacris
This has another episode of Southern Gangsta
Thanks for in, what's next for Luda?
Well, possible in the Theater of the Mind