Luyện nghe bài hát Straight Spittin'

I'll bust all you cats in the game for
I'm in Jersey, where I'm no taxes
stick your girl, Agnus
Flipmode bring the
Platinum status, Rampage I'm the
the credit, yo you might as well dead it
I it, fuck the edit, it's uncut
Nigga what, it's crunch time for me to
I'm a you easily for me to take mine
Pass my nickel plated nine, call me
Buck a shot two and stick you for your rhyme
Put you in a box
You and whole family's on detox
Hustlin for Reeboks
Holy socks, cut you my ox
Rampage got the city
And your function, to the Bush junction
Causin rambunction, me do you somethin

Baby Sham on new shit
New and
5'3", Caramel, tight on a four fifth
Leave em all stiff, smoke from this foul drift
Nigga with the 6 story, em off the cliff
As I speak the shit to put my name on the
The small thug with a slug put a on his wrist
A of pyramids, puttin hollows in clips
Peeped your gat, jammed tight, Ross your to riff, what the fuck?
QB's type shit, we runnin your clique
See me in the drop, with six, sayin she snitched
But that, 'cause o, high beam through the window
My lookouts move slow, they heard you never though
Got a safe in your crib, sham, you the code
Search, out, 3, 2, 1, that's zero
Took the c notes and flip mode left on the note
Swallowed these then cleared your
Bitch ass, you should have

AN F
Fuck the bullshit, my gun
Fly a nigga head, it for fun
Fuck you from
AN L
Layin on beaches, all leeches
to break a liar face
up the pieces, yo
AN I
Intelligence eliminates all
Icon of immaculate rhyme common
A P
Powerful
my pistol
Make a pack of people paranoid 20 pitbulls
AN M
Master of all
Maker of
on collisions
Massacre the meat rack, ask the
AN O
Got open, open heart surgery
so official, overthrow governments
Shit is
A D
Diggin my dick all inside chick
the heavyweight division
Rhymin
AN E
Everlasting
ebonics
Lyrical
livin in all my economics

Group of men,
force

Movin like one in
Beg your

What they me
A hundred on a
Out of nowhere, and keep you like Brawley
Narley! I'm the bitch the pistol
Woodpecker or L.L. at the Bristol
Official stand, hold it in Trent
Then link up at the tunnel with the of my camp
Paper like Meade, I'm in the mix like
And be screamin on the mic till my bleed
that's the way it is
Like when a kid get
Like comin to the to find your whip missin
uptown, on down to west Howston
Houston, peace to my bitches that's
After juicin, I'm a straight ball a rapper
Tap a nigga's nerves them hackers
Be goin on the modem, I get the from the dispatcher
Then show them mother f'ers I'm after

Yo I back a wack mc for trying to be
Something he not, his card, blow up his spot
Nigga talkin bout murder but ain't one
Niggas talkin bout but ain't bustin one
Yo, I see you in the, portrayin you a thug
Yea, your man got a gatt, but he ain't bustin no
You
You's a local spokesman, I split your front open
Viscious knife wound, fucked up Ron Goldman
Spliff, I spit, fully for any bullshit
Grew up the bad and ugly, quick to pull shit
Ignorant, vulgar, on taperecorder
Idol to your son and probably to your daughter
Fatman son, wilted grandson, nephew, Frank the

Uh huh, one more time, uh huh, Spliff, on
my gun, like Columbians
Make niggas colapse fucked up lungs

Better obey the laws of the
Or lay still like soldiers of in Nam
Closed coffin with folded in half
Triangular shape, out the candles with grace
For tastes, some will, battle for space
Pay the ultimate price,
Put the holy ghost in life, bring you closer to Christ
Focus your dice, when the vulture's in
Resculpture the mic, then smash heads the opium bite
Prophet in vein, Metropolis claim and soul
ID's controlled in the frame
Never the game
Remove your squad steady plans
I slam punks like Superstar Billy Gramm

Straight spittin, word is bond, Flip Mode Squad, spittin, Lyrical
Ass Whippin, We straight