Luyện nghe bài hát Speakers on Blast

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

Them boys they music on blast
Don't turn me down, turn me up every time cops pass
on the gas, am I getting high, don't even ask
Cause I got ounce up in the stash
Them boys want they music on
Don't me down, turn me up every time 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 stashed all up in my grill
by the Armor All while it's sparkling off my wheels
And I fuck hoes that on Dwight Howard and Shaquille
Not throwback rats they be on showin' college hill
For real, I my first album sold 5 mil'
And you say to "He's broke"
Well how the hell am I ballin', like
I did a couple of movies, now calling and calling
Can't get to the phone right now cause is all in this bitch mouth
did we start taking these tricks out?
Now she run her big mouth and tell her girlfriend
You had her all up in the
Blowing yo cheese on Vuitton, and now that bitch is in the wind
And after the next draft, she gon' start cycle again
How you claimin' bitch when she with him?
Come again

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


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