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 Wynn
I'm from the streets of California 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 and drinkin' and chillin' in front of the apartment building
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 percent
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 walk out a
I ball like a hooper man, papered up a printer
I ain't too tight, I'm touched, I'm throwed
Mental health, argue with my conscience out myself
My psychologist got a psychologist, 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
Trying to get my right, my nigga
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 paper right, my
it to the ceiling

Drinking and blowing on good bud
on a strain you never heard of
Exclusive shit, I got it from my
You drop my on my rug
That's twenty pushups, that's a party
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, need something to calm my
You libel to find me at my teacher's meeting smellin' like herb
I plastered, but I'm all about my paper
Liquor aroma, that's me in the
More than Auto Trader, that's what I got
Driveway, looks a car lot
My bite is than my bark
you thought, heart
Bitch you full of shit a dog park
ass poodle, square as a cubicle
Weirdo,
Why do suckas, be all in a one's business?
While these sideline niggas be always to count a hustler's chizznips
Flappin' their lizznips some bitches, man they saps
Dudes be running their mouth like that, we call 'em
That's how a gets smack-smacked
in the naps, clapped
Head put on flap, Fix-a-Flat can't bring 'em back (bitch)

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

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

...to the