Luyện nghe bài hát Stack It to the Ceiling

Ever since I woke up this morning, been on
Twist the cap up off my weed jar, and a cone
Took a and got gone in the wind, like Steve Wynn
I'm from the of California where we be hustlin and grittin'
Gettin' women, mobbin' and mackin', droppin' and stackin'
Wheelin' and dealin' and makin' a killin' trying to hit a
Perkin' and illin' and and chillin' in front of the apartment building
Packin' and totin' and toast the lean oh what a
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 hustler like Flynt
money's my habit, I stay in the traffic
Papered up a tablet, my bankroll is massive
If I walked in a loser, mayne I'm gonna walk out a
I like a hooper man, papered up like a printer
I wrapped too tight, I'm touched, I'm throwed
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
and bobbin' and weavin'
In and out of traffic, from the morning to the
Trying to get my right, my nigga
Stack it to the

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

Drinking and on some good bud
Smokin' on a strain you heard of
Exclusive shit, I got it from my
You my weed on my rug
That's twenty pushups, that's a foul
You can do 'em or do 'em now
I allow (who?)
around me, that's a no-no
They'll try to me and turn my brains into adobo
see me solo, if you do I'm not
Best believe E-40 his .45 Glock
I'm ADHD, something to calm my nerves
You libel to me at my kid's teacher's meeting smellin' like herb
I plastered, but I'm all about my paper
aroma, that's me in the elevator
More than Auto Trader, that's what I got
Driveway, like a car lot
My is stronger than my bark
you thought, heart
Bitch you of shit like a dog park
Mark ass poodle, square as a
Weirdo,
Why do suckas, be all in a real one's
While these sideline niggas be always trying to count a chizznips
Flappin' their lizznips like some bitches, man saps
be running their mouth like that, we call 'em quack-quacks
That's how a bitch gets
in the naps, clapped
Head put on flap, Fix-a-Flat can't bring 'em back (bitch)

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

Act like you
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

...to the