Luyện nghe bài hát Stack It to the Ceiling

Ever since I woke up this morning, I've on
Twist the cap up off my weed jar, and smoked a
Took a shower and got gone in the wind, Steve Wynn
I'm from the streets of California where we be and grittin'
that women, mobbin' and mackin', droppin' and stackin'
Wheelin' and dealin' and makin' a killin' to hit a million
Perkin' and illin' and and chillin' in front of the apartment building
and totin' and toast the lean oh what a feelin'
He's a fraudulent, I'm
He a simp, he a sap, he
I'm a boss, I'm a factor, I'm a hundred
I'm a like Larry Flynt
Getting money's my habit, I in the traffic
Papered up like a tablet, my is massive
If I in a loser, mayne I'm gonna walk out a winner
I ball like a hooper man, up like a printer
I ain't wrapped too tight, I'm touched, I'm
Mental health, argue my conscience cursin' out myself
My got a psychologist, neurologist too
I'm one of one, I'm not you

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

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

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

Act you know
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

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

...to the