Luyện nghe bài hát Southern Gangsters

He's a hustler, by law
A millionaire
With a reckless disregard for the
Ludacris on Southern

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

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 your neighborhood trap
I got rifles that blow ya ya bible belt
And Mac-11's that leave you wetter Michael Phelps

But you'll be with the fishes
Softer bitches washin' dishes
Fool, what's the
I'm rich, so talk mo' figures
Spit 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
forget where you come or that block'll bang you
I keep my ear to the like a cocker spaniel

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

He's the boss, comin' outta the MIYayo
from the port of Miami
To it trilla
Involved in heated acts of violence

This deeper than rap shit
worth eight figures
So niggaz, boss up
I to you, Rick 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, picture
Got a Chevy with pictures on it from crack

Bitch I know Haitians, we speakin'
Bitch I'm a D-boy, slingin' kilos
I got cars, why exaggerate?
It cost me five just to fill the gas tanks

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

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

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

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

Uh, I'm so I wrote this verse in a hospital
It's an election year, I struggle
We roll like bicycles, flow
liquor, my nigga stay on line with the blow

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

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

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

Playaz Circle, Ross, Ludacris
This has been another episode of Southern
Thanks for tunin' in, what's for Luda?
Well, anything's possible in the Theater of the