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 jar, and smoked a cone
Took a shower and got gone in the wind, like Steve
I'm from the streets of where we be hustlin and grittin'
Gettin' that women, and mackin', droppin' and stackin'
Wheelin' and dealin' and makin' a killin' trying to hit a
Perkin' and illin' and drinkin' and chillin' in front of the apartment
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 hustler like Larry
Getting my habit, I stay in the traffic
up like a tablet, my bankroll is massive
If I walked in a loser, mayne I'm gonna out a winner
I ball a hooper man, papered up like a printer
I wrapped too tight, I'm touched, I'm throwed
Mental health, with my conscience cursin' out myself
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, from the morning to the
to get my paper right, my nigga
Stack it to the

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

and blowing on some good bud
Smokin' on a you never heard of
shit, I got it from my plugs
You my weed on my rug
That's twenty pushups, a party foul
You can do 'em or do 'em now
I allow (who?)
Aliens 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 something to calm my
You libel to find me at my kid's teacher's meeting smellin' like
I stay plastered, but I'm all about my
Liquor aroma, me in the elevator
More than Auto Trader, that's what I got
Driveway, looks a car lot
My is stronger than my bark
Thought you thought,
you full of shit like a dog park
Mark ass poodle, square as a
Weirdo,
Why do suckas, be all in a one's business?
While these sideline niggas be always trying to count a chizznips
Flappin' lizznips like some bitches, man they saps
Dudes be running their like that, we call 'em quack-quacks
That's how a gets smack-smacked
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
to get my paper 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