Luyện nghe bài hát Stack It to the Ceiling

Ever since I woke up this morning, been on
Twist the cap up off my jar, and smoked a cone
Took a shower and got gone in the wind, like Wynn
I'm from the streets of California we be hustlin and grittin'
Gettin' women, mobbin' and mackin', droppin' and stackin'
Wheelin' and dealin' and makin' a trying to hit a million
Perkin' and illin' and drinkin' and chillin' in front of the building
Packin' and totin' and toast the oh what a feelin'
a fraudulent, I'm immaculate
He a simp, he a sap, he
I'm a boss, I'm a factor, I'm a hundred
I'm a hustler like Flynt
money's my habit, I stay in the traffic
Papered up like a tablet, my bankroll is
If I walked in a loser, mayne I'm walk out a winner
I ball like a hooper man, papered up a printer
I ain't too tight, I'm touched, I'm throwed
Mental health, argue with my conscience cursin' out
My got a psychologist, neurologist too
I'm one of one, I'm not you

Act you know
Dippin' and and weavin'
In and out of traffic, the morning to the evening
to get my paper right, my nigga
Stack it to the

Act you know
Dippin' and bobbin' and
In and out of traffic, the morning to the evening
Trying to get my right, my nigga
Stack it to the

Drinking and on some good bud
on a strain you never heard of
Exclusive shit, I got it from my
You my weed on my rug
That's pushups, that's a party foul
You can do 'em or do 'em now
I don't (who?)
Aliens around me, a no-no
try to sneak me and turn my brains into adobo
see me solo, if you do I'm not
Best believe E-40 with his .45
I'm ADHD, need to calm my nerves
You libel to find me at my teacher's meeting smellin' like herb
I stay plastered, but I'm all about my
Liquor aroma, me in the elevator
More whips than Auto Trader, what I got
Driveway, like a car lot
My bite is stronger my bark
you thought, heart
Bitch you full of shit a dog park
Mark ass poodle, as a cubicle
Weirdo,
Why do suckas, be all in a real business?
While sideline niggas be always trying to count a hustler's chizznips
Flappin' their lizznips like bitches, man they saps
Dudes be running their mouth that, we call 'em quack-quacks
That's how a gets smack-smacked
in the naps, clapped
Head put on flap, Fix-a-Flat can't even 'em back (bitch)

Act you know
and bobbin and weavin'
In and out of traffic, the morning to the evening
Trying to get my right, my nigga
Stack it to the

Act like you
Dippin' and and weavin'
In and out of traffic, from the morning to the
Trying to get my paper right, my
it to the ceiling

...to the