Luyện nghe bài hát Suffix

kickin rocks on the block tellin all the og's i be comin for ya spot ya not lookin
hot cookin mama got it on the kitchen table, i thank god we were always to, get the leather couch, big screen, cable too
when the good grades came through
then the cooked came through
some soft some on, but we kept on
and i slept with the work plenty nights, thought i heard niggas comin thought i saw the cop lights but, i was dreamin, then i woke the junkies was fiendin, and i had coke so, i had hope ya may say that its wrong, but i aint talkin to ya child im talkin to song
im just, doin a bump down memory lane, if i crash just pick up my brain, and yes, my niggas the
but they to bang, and if they do then im the nigga to blame,
so i shoot first anyway, and i would do the honors anyday, and tell ya honor he a bitch to his face, and whip through the state i whip through the yay
show ya ass on how to take 4 and make 8. and it dont take four niggas to get straight, the only hot boy off this plane,
young, baby, thats what ya bitch say, give ya ass a location and a template, show her how to work tha interstate, stop workin with that thinner weight, gecha rims fixed
stop playin, cause all we know is
trip while ya and my clip guna be empty
when the stomachs get empty anything's tempting, nobody safe when its for the kids sake,
the hurricane wiped us out like a earthquake, we trying to say grace, but we aint gotta place to stay, so they made us
we on our way pussies,
yall know us when you see us putcha jewels up, putcha cars putcha putcha shoes up,
its simple yes homie pick the news up, it wasnt good nigga think about the hood nigga

(interlude)
the people who aint, never had shit aint gon never shit

bullshit, cause they still gon try to manage, niggas do anything i dont understand em, but please understand us

niggas with lost mansions
niggas with lost families

lives lost from traffic, water up to the attic, goes the stashes

(verse 2)
but a nigga got passion, even though the bounce back seemin like
chyeaaa, but me sigfried,
watch how i turn one key to a hundred G's,then summer,summer breeze, someone please know i live for ya, throw on the wife beater like that to live for ya, a few years probably hear from ya, but now im here for ya, i know niggas thatd shed a tear for ya, behind bars tryin to get to ya, and probably never see ya, that real talk if ya ever heard it homie
shit hurt so much i might have to hurt ya homie, no commercial no frontin no curve on it, no car tel like so what? the here not only white's slowed up, the weed's slowed up, we cant even roll up, fuck, put a dent in the money too, but thats the last thing cause hustle is what we do
hustle with how we gettin on?
where hes sittin at, hes sittin on
stand up if you know its true, the end of the world comin and my city the proof, yea, chyea, and this if after disaster, aint rap this is recap

steppin off the G-4 strapped
bust ya head in the air a skycap, have my car pick me up where i arrive at, drop the work off cause it dont go where i reside at
garbage bags filled up with dollars,dead gotta dump the bodies
birdman as long as we gon eat, everybody gon eat off me

feet off ground, fingers to the stars, reachin, and ima get there through these bars, me,
im down for the cause, even, when everything pause i can see it, ima leader, me, the son of the
fuck the not the people