Luyện nghe bài hát Stack It to the Ceiling

Ever since I woke up this morning, been on
the cap up off my weed jar, and smoked a cone
Took a shower and got gone in the wind, Steve Wynn
I'm from the streets of California where we be hustlin and
Gettin' that women, mobbin' and mackin', droppin' and
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
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 like Larry 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 ball like a hooper man, papered up like a
I ain't wrapped too tight, I'm touched, I'm
health, argue with my conscience cursin' out myself
My psychologist got a psychologist, too
I'm one of one, I'm not you

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

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

and blowing on some good bud
Smokin' on a strain you never of
Exclusive shit, I got it from my
You drop my on my rug
That's twenty pushups, a party foul
You can do 'em or do 'em now
I allow (who?)
Aliens around me, a no-no
try to sneak me and turn my brains into adobo
see me solo, if you do I'm not
Best believe with his .45 Glock
I'm ADHD, something to calm my nerves
You libel to find me at my kid's meeting smellin' like herb
I plastered, but I'm all about my paper
Liquor aroma, me in the elevator
whips than Auto Trader, that's what I got
Driveway, like a car lot
My is stronger than my bark
Thought you thought,
Bitch you of shit like a dog park
Mark ass poodle, square as a
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 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 even bring 'em (bitch)

Act you know
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

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

...to the