Luyện nghe bài hát Studio Gangster

"I've you on the street" "Where you from?" "From Oakland"
"Nah, you're not from Oakland, I Oakland"

Let's take a with the boy from the Eastside
Where nothing's a crime no roots to a
Tired of motherfuckers spitting but drama rhymes
Flapping his lips, and ain't squeezed a nine
Try to compete me fool, you ain't competitive
Stop my town, before I give your ass a sedative
Haymaker and uppercuts, hey nigga you weak as
I'm hitting like Tyson, so fool up?
You and your boys, you pop a whole lot of weak
Yelling "Pooh-Man is flapping" but he's fucking bitch
Getting ganked by your manager, did for your
That's you get with your uneducated ass
the pistol-toting, dank-smoking, bitch-choking
Young from Oakland
I was taught by O.G.'s fool, what you
AK's, Mac fool, Smith & Wessons
You got the audacity to claim where you be
R.I.P. to
You wanna be down my town but my town ain't down with ya clown
So studio gangster put your motherfucking mic
I'm for your ass, nigga, you're outta pocket
Squeeze the trigger, ball in the corner pocket

A stories circulating round town
my peers in this business try to put me down
He said this, she that
But you know where they talking that fool: my back
Never had the to step up
And my fans that I can take a rhyme and change the flow
Somewhat of a realist, I stay as real as this
And all those other brothers can do is make a
Huh, so I refuse to kiss ass
I got better, motherfucker (gunshots)
More and more I find myself in the
Or on the screen for New Line Cinema
Yeah, your are flapping but my bank is still stacking
'93 and I out to do nothing but keep taxing
Punk-ass bitch, you slimy-ass
When will you you only get what the fuck you earn?
I'm the town of the motherfucking Mack
Even my draws a big black gat, huh
So all the you doing gets you nowhere, player
The "Peace to My Nine" I just couldn't bear
Here's my glock, to me cock it
The trigger is pulled, it's eight ball in the corner

I'm getting tired of my used in a bad way
Even though I ain't around, these fools got to say
I'm a thug, I sell drug ficticious
Man I'm telling you, these be vicious
And these same be all in my face
'93 I got the pop, and they all want a
You see I'm out to get richer, in otherwords more
Pooh be coming in with these niggas coming in last
So I take my nine and my sensor
And I straight go crazy and take his fucking off
For all in my fucking mix
You punk motherfucking ass hoe-trusting
Yeah partner pump you up, you throw your chest in the air
And then you got the nerves to a player
If I was you I'd shut my mouth
Before my partner Little E blow motherfucking head off
You want funk nigga, well you got it
It's like ball to the corner pocket