Luyện nghe bài hát The Hit

[Intro][Joe
Shit, pass the it over here
Fuck, damn, nigga thought it was soft
Get the fuck up nigga, no
Niggas got Napolean
Gassed whole scene

Yo, trial of the century, nosy bitches from 50 states
walked in with ten video tapes
I'mma wipped out, scored with these cats for three
Ripped on em, now that fat cat livin in
Yo cream dun, grow into this dangerous
Took both families out for a hundred
Right man, Curly haired kid from the alles
With bubbled eyed Benzes, diamond laced
Murder plots, target it to what fat cat from Miami,
Who flexed just on his Lex
But on one night, Rec Poison on his eye sight
Two stitches required, for metal spikes
He survived though, but snitched Sammy Grivana
Game info about this chick named
Who about killin and needle, shootin villains
Underground stash location six million
To take, revail mafia shit
Phillipino licked coke right off his dick
He the judge off, but still got assassinated
Stretched out like pussy wounds dialeted
Murder cases, some foul and some
Wu-Syndicate, we never finger prints

Chorus-
we gonna murder, can't leave no fingerprints
Twist the off, Myalansky, Napolean
Call my man Joe Mafia, suit up we in
can't leave no traces and shit
We here

Mafia]
We in the scenes, straight shoot out
Who his back out? I can't see him
One of the cats shot the out
Bacup, the gat up, Myalansky
I can't see Gotti, cover me we gotta this shit down dun
Turn around son, we bust one
So close it almost him
You aight I got this
He wanna jam son dun, you cop
They trying to leave a rockless
he came into the spot though
Watching Polio get
They flashed the fo-fo, barricated the door
We our way out, with the flame out
With X amount, and the crack stayin on point
Who thugged his back

Tonight nigga, then's when we them, said to Napolean
Meet with Joe Mafia first, and we rollin in
Once again, same routine, on the silencers
Shh! There go them niggas, come on let's them
Pollyin, uppin at Lex the prodigy
You fuck with that rep that theme, whole town watchin him
Damn that fed as shit yo, pass the binoculars
Now we gettin back in the car, forget we them
Pull up on the of his whip and starting sparkin him
Silencers on three fresh mats, no one was kid
we never forget their ass
Stash the burners, no
No rust say shit, routine, go