Luyện nghe bài hát Steps

Old die hard huh
will not be disregarded partna
You cross dat line I'm off bout mine
Man woman and child, no homeboy
No will be tolerated man come hell or high water
You that? You bitch!
Bankroll mafia, hustle gang ova nigga

I got fake on my timeline, ay
Sucka niggas in my
Wonder why I'm wasting my time
replying to let you know I don't feel you, fuck 'em!
Dodging nothin' but a Fed
Betta know it, of holdin' on to dead weight
Goin' let it go, no turnin' round lookin' back
I swear to God I'ma drop a gem like cookin'
And sell it hard,
Bankhead to the heart, with
tools on the boulevard
It's young in a stolen car
With expensive and exquisite pistols we showin' off
Caught that line and we off
And let his mom give a damn, who you call?
You violatin, we ain't nothin' go at all
We and leave your brains on the fuckin' wall
Pussy, you nigga, got that
I ain't never been at, and I ain't shot back
Bossed up in a whip with a hot gat
And still got stacks from from "What you know about that?"

I'm just a project on the front steps
And gettin' money is the
By any means, and the where the gun kept
I let that clip ride, till ain't one left in it
Try me, I'ma handle my
Handle my
Try me
I'ma my business
Try me I'ma my business, try me

I got fake bitches on my and
Hatin' in my rearview
I got naked bitches in the high
On the balcony so could get a clear view
Of the city with my up in it
But in the morning won't remember bitch is it, shit
Ay I'm too rich for this shit but I'm too real to be tried
Going me just like goin' against God
And I ain't gotta excuses, why
I fuck whoever, whatchu wanna do about it
Thought not, fuck around get out
You caught slippin' roll down on ass, .45 start spittin'
be a long day nigga I start trippin'
Don't be stickin' to the script, drive-by audition, up?
Whatchu do for dough, you do it too slow
And by the of your stuff, you ain't doin' enough
I'm poppin' witnesses in the front, you in the dust
Kick in door masked up like, "Who in the fuck?"
Boy you is a ho ho, not just a little of pussy
Betta watch your ass talkin', you me nigga holdup

I'm just a nigga on the front steps
And gettin' money is the
By any means, and the belt the gun kept
I let that whole clip ride, til ain't one in it
Try me, I'ma my business
my business
Try me
I'ma my business
Try me handle my business
Try me

All I do is go and chill
Take my mind off the I wanna go and kill
Yea, I'm a daddy, my little girls
But I'll check a bitch like 'Pac did Lauryn Hill
Hey, hey I grow into it, I was born with it
to sell crack to the children of the corn
I'm the reason why mama warned you
Pray you die before you make it to the street corner
back! Who am I

I'm just a project on the front steps
And gettin' is the concept
By any means, and the belt where the gun
I let that whole ride, til ain't one left in it
Try me, I'ma handle my
Handle my
Try me
I'ma my business
Try me I'ma my business
Try me