Luyện nghe bài hát The Hit

[Intro][Joe
Shit, pass the it over here
Fuck, damn, yeah nigga thought it was
Get the up nigga, no doubt
Niggas got down
their whole scene

Yo, of the century, nosy bitches came from 50 states
Fans walked in with ten tapes
I'mma wipped out, with these cats for three years
on em, now that fat cat livin in fear
Yo dun, grow into this dangerous hitman
Took both out for a hundred grand
Right hand man, Curly haired kid from the
With bubbled eyed Benzes, diamond laced
Murder plots, it to what this fat cat from Miami,
Who gold just on his Lex
But on one night, threw Rec on his eye sight
Two hundred required, for metal spikes
He though, but snitched like Sammy Grivana
Game info about this chick Tiwanna
Who about killin and needle, shootin villains
Underground stash with six million
To take, revail straight mafia
chick licked coke right off his dick
He the judge off, but still got assassinated
Stretched out like wounds that dialeted
Murder cases, some foul and fixed
Wu-Syndicate, we never leave prints

Myalansky
Tonight we murder, can't leave no fingerprints
Twist the off, Myalansky, Napolean
Call my man Joe Mafia, up we goin in
Shisty can't leave no traces and
We here

Mafia]
We in the scenes, straight shoot out
Who thugged his out? I can't see him
One of the shot the lights out
Bacup, pick the gat up,
I can't see Gotti, cover me we gotta shut shit down dun
Turn around son, blow we one
So close it almost him
You aight son? I got
He wanna jam son dun, you cop
They to leave a nigga rockless
When he came into the spot
Watching get dough
They flashed the fo-fo, heads barricated the
We made our way out, the flame out
With X amount, and the house stayin on point
Who thugged his back

Tonight nigga, then's we gettin them, said to Napolean
Meet with Joe Mafia first, and then we in
again, same routine, twist on the silencers
Shh! There go them niggas, on let's follow them
Pollyin, at Lex within the prodigy
You fuck with that rep that theme, whole town watchin him
Damn bitch fed as shit yo, pass the binoculars
Now we gettin back in the car, we droppin them
Pull up on the side of his whip and sparkin him
Silencers on three fresh mats, no one was kid
Though we forget their ass
Stash the burners, no
No say shit, routine, go head