Luyện nghe bài hát Tales Of A Hustler Part II

Court casin', third facin', no probation
My heart racin' like a blunt
Hennessy and liquor chasin'
My gemstar scarrin' faces

For a pound of eight and
I throw bullets like Troy Aikman
The on my index stay achin'
Niggaz, stay hatin', got me night pacin'

I'm tight boot lacin', on like, I'm Jason
Shoot up shit like Davis
You play the pulpit like Mason
Turn cheek like Martin

I'm Oswald, sharp-shootin'
Got my eyes on my mark in the dark
Beam the target movin'
Get your organs ruined, move out like Swat in

Got them niggaz on the rootin'
For the bad guy, playground legend Sadait
P. Kirkland, my MP workin'
Shootin-arm jerkin', my Nextel stay chripin'
Can't answer the feds lurkin'

like we catchin' cancer on purpose
Back to back smoking, nicotine feinin'
Conversation with demons when I'm

Like the man upstairs to pass me a lesson
But I catch it
The game break the pressure
miss my presence

We still not promised
Takin' the bitter with the sweet up in cold ass streets
We got lifestyles through our
We ride hard till our numbers get
The lifestyle of a

We not promised tomorrow
Takin' the bitter with the sweet up in these ass streets
We got lifestyles our scars
We hard till our numbers get called
The lifestyle of a

I'm like death's in the air
Got me back to buckin' my squares
But I ain't bitchin', I ain't
I ain't budgin', in fact the alone turns me on

Got me smiling, laughin,
My toast and confrontin' fuckers
Cockroaches not catch me laughin'

Skinny and slim fram y'all get it the
Cool niggaz that'll spin out waves
Grimey niggaz that'll to they graves
Justifyin' my foul ways, I got kids to

But motherfuckers see me sprayed
Than to see me pair, fucker or see me on the page like Sig
Or rolled DC with B. Sig
You bitch, stay PC when y'all see me

Until the day that
Fit me in the grave and the city of me
We got the under siege
S P R O C

Poverty is a starrin' me
Ride me, play the passenger seat
So, can see how my life's so real
So, can see how my life's so ill

We not promised tomorrow
Takin' the bitter with the sweet up in cold ass streets
We got through our scars
We ride hard our numbers get called
The of a hustler

We still not tomorrow
Takin' the with the sweet up in these cold ass streets
We got lifestyles through our
We ride hard our numbers get called
The of a hustler

Tales of a that's me in the flesh
Got a Jag and a Caddy dimes of the step
Niggaz wanna my block I had to earn my respect
So, I put his cerebellum on his steps

You know Oschino, he'll probly
Got the of Huey Newton, nigga, Bobby Seale
Nigga, prolly take the stand he'll prolly
But I got four lawyers, I ain't the deal, nigga

We strap without scrap or put the semi in it
Gun loaded like the Chrysler with the hemmy in it
I it ghetto like a 40 with the Henny in it
Went to school, broke on no pennies in it

Stood the coldest winter the bummiest coat
Need food, need shoes, dummies of soap
Got tired of bein' broke, man, was a bitch
They bring you flowers when you dead but no while you sick

So, I switched my whole picture, got with the bricks
Not the ones made of semen but the ones you
Tales of a hustler, niggaz come for your
If you sell one bag to they fuckin' customers

State P we got the city on
Got every boulevard, street, every ave
Got sneakers, got clothes, nigga, you do the
Push to hustle but the point is just to stack that
of a hustler