Luyện nghe bài hát The Best Out

Okay,okay,okay, yes sir
Hell Rell, J.R. Writer,
This is how we do it,
I am one of a kind,
now or never, nigga
Time's up,
Let's do

Aiyo, I stop paying for coke, get bricks on the
Gorillas on bullshit, welcome to the jungle
get served in the hallway, welcome to the hustle
Where bitches do anything for a hit of glass dick
When I'm town, nothing less than a half brick
One-Sixty on the dash, less than a fast whip
I floss when it's sunny, got for a rainy day
In the dope spot a few from where the Yankees play

Man, I'm in that BX borough, we ain't gotta front for nobody
We just thorough and I'm sittin' on an arsenal, rockets and the
Took my and got my strip poppin' with them nickels
And when I'm in ya neighborhood, you go hide
Deliver bullets to ya door them domino pies nigga
Say hello to my friend like Scarface
I pull that fuckin' right out the guitar case

Dipset, the best out, Hell Rell, he out
Jones the kuffe smacker, he them techs out
Sporty-style, 40 cal, he bringing out
Bezel, the beast but I still you what fresh 'bout
You know who the grams, 40k on the hand
Killa nigga, what can I say about Cam
J.R. the writer of writers and
Back like cooked crack, he even supplying

The type that I'm tighter, 'cause I'm writer
Write I'm nicer, site for the lifers
Knifes in the cipher, writers a viper, listen is butter
ringling brothers see I got the eye of the tiger
Before I met cam, I was dealing killa grams
I killer grams, throws a tan, fill a pan
Recorded in the hole, where you couldn't or stand
No booth, microphone hangin off the fan

Mass million fan in the Belly Hilton
Watch how I heavy kills him, Bessey, Chevy, fill 'em
But I still ain't break a sweat, yes I'm
Veet wong, wrong, Tito gonna bet the building
I been to lean, sniff lines for fiends
Grams chopped, tan rock, I pitch beans
Piff grind was mean, had 'em stuck
So when I say uncut, I mean behind the scenes

Dipset, the best out, Hell Rell, he out
the kuffe smacker, he bringing them techs out
Sporty-style, 40 cal, he Corvettes out
Bezel, the beast but I still show you what 'bout
You know who the grams, 40k on the hand
Killa nigga, what more can I say Cam
J.R. the of writers and Santana
Back like cooked crack, he supplying suppliers

Yo, I'm a NY G Jeremy Shockey
Come through drop my coupe like I to be sloppy
I got DJ's karate
'Cause they throw my wax on and your wax off like Mr. Myagi
Pimpin', I'm cocky, I slap your on the cheek
And send her home barefooted, you her feet
You probably go down on a freak, you're a meat
But we mad 'cause you're proving, you are what you eat

Your squadron is weak, speak and get a broken
a plate in ya grill like a toaster oven
Fuck it, they even got frontin'
Shakin' your cola, only your coke was bubbling cousin
Cal get weight no problemo
around ya block, sell it out the car window
And ya mom's been know, that I chop
That make your father cop like Carl

Dipset, the out, Hell Rell, he fresh out
the kuffe smacker, he bringing them techs out
Sporty-style, 40 cal, he Corvettes out
Bezel, the beast but I still you what fresh 'bout
You who shavin' the grams, 40k on the hand
nigga, what more can I say about Cam
J.R. the of writers and Santana
Back like cooked crack, he supplying suppliers