Luyện nghe bài hát Stack It to the Ceiling

Ever since I woke up morning, I've been on
Twist the cap up off my weed jar, and a cone
a shower and got gone in the wind, like Steve Wynn
I'm from the streets of California where we be and grittin'
Gettin' women, mobbin' and mackin', droppin' and stackin'
Wheelin' and dealin' and makin' a killin' to hit a million
Perkin' and illin' and drinkin' and chillin' in of the apartment building
Packin' and 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 percent
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 in a loser, mayne 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
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

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

Drinking and on some good bud
Smokin' on a strain you heard of
Exclusive shit, I got it 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?)
around me, that's a no-no
They'll try to sneak me and turn my brains into
see me solo, if you do I'm not
Best believe with his .45 Glock
I'm ADHD, need something to calm my
You libel to find me at my kid's teacher's meeting like herb
I stay plastered, but I'm all my paper
Liquor aroma, that's me in the
whips than Auto Trader, that's what I got
Driveway, looks a car lot
My bite is than my bark
Thought you thought,
Bitch you full of shit like a dog
Mark ass poodle, square as a
Weirdo,
Why do suckas, be all in a one's business?
While these sideline be always trying to count a hustler's chizznips
Flappin' their lizznips some bitches, man they saps
Dudes be their mouth like that, we call 'em quack-quacks
That's how a bitch smack-smacked
Shot in the naps,
Head put on flap, Fix-a-Flat can't bring 'em back (bitch)

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

Act you know
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

...to the