Luyện nghe bài hát Stack It to the Ceiling

Ever since I up this morning, I've been on
the cap up off my weed jar, and smoked a cone
Took a shower and got gone in the wind, like Wynn
I'm from the streets of where we be hustlin and grittin'
Gettin' that women, mobbin' and mackin', droppin' and
and dealin' and makin' a killin' trying to hit a million
Perkin' and illin' and and chillin' in front of the apartment building
Packin' and totin' and toast the lean oh what a
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 Larry
Getting money's my habit, I in the traffic
Papered up a tablet, my bankroll is massive
If I walked in a loser, I'm gonna walk out a winner
I like a hooper man, papered up like a printer
I wrapped 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 like you
Dippin' and bobbin' and
In and out of traffic, the morning to the evening
Trying to get my paper right, my
it to the ceiling

Act like you
Dippin' and bobbin' and
In and out of traffic, the morning to the evening
to get my paper 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 drop my on my rug
twenty pushups, that's a party foul
You can do 'em or do 'em now
I don't (who?)
Aliens around me, a no-no
They'll try to sneak me and turn my brains 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 find me at my teacher's meeting smellin' like herb
I plastered, but I'm all about my paper
Liquor aroma, me in the elevator
More whips than Auto Trader, what I got
Driveway, looks a car lot
My is stronger than my bark
you thought, heart
Bitch you full of like a dog park
ass poodle, square as a cubicle
Weirdo,
Why do suckas, be all in a one's business?
While sideline niggas be always trying to count a hustler's chizznips
Flappin' their like some bitches, man they saps
Dudes be running their mouth like that, we call 'em
how a bitch gets smack-smacked
Shot in the naps,
Head put on flap, can't even 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
Stack it to the

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

...to the