Luyện nghe bài hát Steps

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

I got fake on my timeline, ay
niggas in my rearview
Wonder why I'm even my time
Even replying to let you know I don't you, fuck 'em!
Dodging but a Fed case
Betta know it, tired of on to dead weight
let it go, ain't no turnin' round lookin' back
I swear to God I'ma a gem like cookin' crack
And sell it hard,
Bankhead to the heart, with
Tote tools on the
young niggas in a stolen car
With expensive ambition and exquisite pistols we off
Caught line and we goin' off
And let his mom give a damn, who you goin'
You violatin, we ain't nothin' go at all
We demonstrate and leave your brains on the wall
Pussy, you disrespectful nigga, got
I ain't been shot at, and I ain't shot back
Bossed up in a whip with a hot gat
And still got stacks from back from "What you about that?"

I'm a project nigga on the front steps
And money is the concept
By any means, and the belt the gun kept
I let that whole clip ride, till one left in it
Try me, handle my business
Handle my
Try me
I'ma my business
Try me handle my business, try me

I got fake on my timeline 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 which bitch is it,
Ay I'm too rich for this shit but I'm too real to be nigga
Going against me like goin' against God
And I gotta make excuses, why
I don't fuck whoever, whatchu wanna do it
Thought not, fuck around get out
You caught slippin' roll down on your ass, .45 start
Goin' be a day nigga I start trippin'
be stickin' to the script, drive-by audition, what's up?
Whatchu do for dough, you do it too slow
And by the looks of your stuff, you ain't doin'
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 piece of pussy
Betta your ass talkin', you don't me nigga holdup

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 whole clip ride, til ain't one in it
Try me, handle my business
my business
Try me
I'ma handle my
Try me I'ma handle my
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 still a bitch like 'Pac did Lauryn Hill
Hey, hey I ain't grow it, I was born with it
Used to crack to the children of the corn
I'm the why your mama warned you
you don't die before you make it to the street corner
back! Who am I

I'm just a project nigga on the front
And gettin' money is the
By any means, and the belt the gun kept
I let that whole clip ride, til one left in it
Try me, I'ma my business
my business
Try me
I'ma handle my
Try me handle my business
Try me