Luyện nghe bài hát Speakers on Blast

It's not usual, the game be, all up on South shit
Straight Coasting, you can tell by my outfit
Red fitted, "Blood in, Blood out" shit
Empty jars, nigga, bird in the couch shit
The mad rapper, the Grouch shit
Except when I'm hopping out of cans, I'm pulling out
Dippin' the 4 though, X 3-D Polo
If hip-hop was the league, I'd be the logo
Your last shit was so-so, you should sign to
I've been hard I was solo
Niggas feel my pain, I make it without the strippers
Go against the grain, and put your shit back like clippers
I bang and then I hang out at the Staples like Blake
You can tell I'm getting money the way that house is sitting
I mash out the then like Nas when I'm dippin
Feeling God's Son, the way that It Was Written

Them boys want music on blast
Don't turn me down, turn me up every time them pass
on the gas, am I getting high, don't even ask
Cause I got ounce up in the stash
Them boys they music on blast
Don't turn me down, turn me up every them cops pass
on the gas, am I getting high, don't even ask
Cause I 2 hits, and then I pass

I see the cops in the rearview, why can't a chill in the car
like Missy, why you all up in my grill
They must know that I got bird all up in my grill
Camouflage by the Armor All while sparkling off my wheels
And I fuck hoes that pray on Dwight and Shaquille
Not them throwback rats be on showin' college hill
For real, I think my first album 5 mil'
And you say to "He's broke"
Well how the hell am I ballin', Spalding
I did a couple of movies, now calling and calling
Can't get to the phone right now balls is all in this bitch mouth
When did we start taking tricks out?
Now she run her big mouth and tell her girlfriend
You had her all up in the
Blowing yo cheese on Louie Vuitton, and now bitch is in the wind
And after the next draft, she gon' that cycle again
How you claimin' that bitch when she with
Come cause

[Big
Daddy Fat Sax, my are on your chin, but can you tell me where my dick's at?
Come ghetto, head hunter, head buster through the chit-chat
I skip to the lou, my darling bring the thunder, I'm the lightning strikes twice
Motherfucker, call me mass of, I run the plantation and I'm whooping niggas asses
If they disrespect the presentation, below the Mason-Dixon, we the basses that were missin' pimpin'
You can embrace it or come face to face total devastation
My mojo is never fadin', I'm in my Optimus transform
Switch it up, it up, speed it up, that means I'm gone
Like gears, ahead of your Buzz, Toy and club songs
Boy, gone, the are phoning home
But I like a librarian, cause style's are being' loaned out like books
A castle of crooks, rape and pillage
They'll do anything for money, I bet misleading the


Not from New England, but I pack a
Not from Atlanta, but I got the
Not Chicago, but I'm a bear
I'm a bay nigga, 49er, Raider
I'm about my bread man, I ain't no
Now bitch ass niggas soft as table butter
I'm about my riches, magazines, hustler
You can ask your uncles, daddies, mothers, and your older
But I used to flee that yellow white
Sellin' that shit the retail price
I'm a rare like the bike club, get it right
Desperado like Amos, shout out to dynamite
I got my red cup, and green
What kind of green you smoking pimp? dream
My nigga let my hit that there hemp, do your
How many woofers in trunk? 4 15s