Luyện nghe bài hát Sticky Icky

I got sticky-icky... (3 x's)
I got that sticky-icky...blue shizzle for yo grizzle 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 good sticky weed! Get it in a swisher,
Pass it to my nigga. Mothafucka better pick up a gun, you prepare
Got my eyes closed, let the go everywhere
45 on the freeway, nigga gimme
then a kite while I'm rollin through the alley
Pass me a black and white, But that's my boy cause me and his kids is
And the weed is lime-green, betta catch it a chronic 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 the rocks on the Clair
And the devil is here...and he wants your soul. To rot his in hell, hell...
Then again they could put a nigga in jail...when I'm just get by
But I use to sell...and now I leave it 'cause I'm doin well, well..
I sold out!
I can do what I wanna. My baby momma want money. I hold out!
Hey, hold up. And try to leave me all thawed-ed 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 be the Dope 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 havin my fun, so give me me need, baaby
I like ta got up in "High Times", I even gotta for my nigga "0-9-9"
Dail for the chron, nigga, don't let the come
'cause I'll be wit mine, like we got rock
fine, and my heart's already runnin
I get the drama and steady 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 got kids 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 to let the weed cure
Watch for the women with STD sores, in the rythm I got to get soar
And of adrenaline...in your...mellinium...full of my drink
I'll be in the wit titenium..."damn, that's the shit I'm smokin'"
Weed 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. nobody finna stop me, dawg...
"What's the dreads? You might be wanting to mind ya bidness there, yellow man."
Man fuck you nigga! nigga to the hood, dawg. I got the weed and I'ma break the bread, yeah...uh...
On the freeway coasting like we was riding a limo. that.
Windows was tinted. me and it's like Sizzler-crush grass.
it finished, we puffed puffed and pass (give it back!)
And Im on point, I got my mind on the hour glass
"Ey, why the fuck you not fast? Hurry up, I got ass-to-mash.
And I'm there.