Luyện nghe bài hát Southern Gangsters

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

A entrepre-negro
CEO of Tha Peace Records
He expanded his
Into multiple profitable

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

Luda, I'm a hustler, baller, gangsta, cap
I stay strapped like neighborhood trap dealer
I got rifles that blow ya ya bible belt
And Mac-11's that leave you wetter than Phelps

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

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

I cock and blast you into space
Break every 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 boss, comin' outta the MIYayo
from the port of Miami
To it trilla
Involved in many heated acts of

goes deeper than rap shit
He's eight figures
So niggaz, boss up
I present to you, Rick Ross, the

I got a letter from the government the day
I and read it, it said we want hustlers
Had a at eighteen, picture that
Got a with pictures on it from pitchin' crack

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

the marble floors, got the Greek pillows
Frontin' at awards, real niggaz
I used to shake, now I serve steaks
Three squares on the road, call it third

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

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

They were some rollin' hustlers
Tity Boi and Boy
Playaz Circle aka the Duffel Bag

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

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

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

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

Playaz Circle, Ross, Ludacris
This has been another of Southern Gangsta
Thanks for tunin' in, next for Luda?
Well, anything's possible in the of the Mind