Luyện nghe bài hát Sticky Icky

I got sticky-icky... (3 x's)
I got that sticky-icky...blue bonic shizzle for yo nizzle...
Fa'shizzle. fo'sheezaayy!

[I got that sticky-icky...blue bonic chronic for yo nizzle...
In yo' grizzle. fo'sheezaayy...
I got that sticky-icky...blue bonic for yo grizzle nizzle...
Fa'shizzle. fo'sheezaayy!

1:
OOH WEE! Nigga got that good weed! Get it in a swisher,
Pass it to my nigga. Mothafucka better pick up a gun, you better
Got my eyes closed, let the smoke go
45 on the freeway, nigga gimme
Higher then a kite I'm rollin through the alley
Pass me a and white, But that's my boy cause me and his kids is tight
And the weed is lime-green, betta catch it from a seed
And it was callin me...oh yeah. I wait 'til this shit's in the air
everywhere...
I hail...a little bitty nigga that was sellin the on the Clair
And the is here...and he wants your soul. To rot with his in hell, hell...
Then again they put a nigga in jail...when I'm just tryna get by
But I use to sell...and now I leave it alone 'cause I'm well, well..
I sold out!
I can do what I wanna. My baby momma money. I never hold out!
Hey, bitch hold up. And try to leave me all out
Man, be fucked up. No doubt! I'm blowin up...

2:
Rap and the crack, and the dice, like when I get on
And it'll be the Man. And that nigga sold crack
And man...humiliation to the black man, black man...
My smoke weed, my daddy smoke weed
Hell, we all weed...
So I'm my fun, so give me what me need, baaby
I ta got up in "High Times", I even gotta dail for my nigga "0-9-9"
for the chron, nigga, don't let the cops come
'cause I'll be wit mine, like we got rock
fine, and my heart's already runnin
I get the drama and it's comin, a c'mon...
(Inhales) "What you do?" "It's on you, wayy...all day everyday" hey...
Fuck! Gotta do shit. Got to do
A nigga really got and bills, wit the crew
I'ma pay them nigga, you knew-baby baller I call all my trues
"How does it relate to weed?" "Fuck the weed! Relate to me. The nigga with the T.H.C.
And no G.H.B...these are the days. Roll me a sweet! A-c'mon! A-c'mon!

I'm up... (8 x's)
(Chronic, chronic, chronic...)

3:
I'm ready for the war...still got time to let the cure
Watch for the women with STD sores, blessed in the rythm I got to get
And of adrenaline...in your...mellinium...full of my drink
I'll be in the back wit titenium..."damn, the shit I'm smokin'"
got a mothafucka thinkinn...Yeah. Up, jumped in the cab and rushed, but B cant catch the bus. I'm goin to see my broad. And fuck y'all niggaz, I'm in love. Ain't nobody finna stop me, dawg...
"What's with the dreads? You might be wanting to mind ya bidness there, man."
Man fuck you nigga! Young nigga to the hood, dawg. I got the weed and I'ma the bread, yeah...uh...
On the freeway coasting like we was a limo. Fuck that.
Windows was tinted. It's me and it's Sizzler-crush grass.
'Til it finished, we puffed and pass (give it back!)
And Im on point, I got my mind on the hour glass
"Ey, why the fuck you not driving Hurry up, I got ass-to-mash.
And I'm there.