Luyện nghe bài hát The Hit

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

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

Myalansky
Tonight we gonna murder, leave no fingerprints
Twist the silencer off, Myalansky,
my man Joe Mafia, suit up we goin in
Shisty can't leave no and shit
We here

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

Tonight nigga, then's we gettin them, said to Napolean
Meet with Joe Mafia first, and we rollin in
Once again, same routine, twist on the
Shh! There go niggas, come on let's follow them
Pollyin, uppin at Lex within the
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, we droppin them
Pull up on the of his whip and starting sparkin him
Silencers on three fresh mats, no one was kid
Though we never their ass
Stash the burners, no
No say shit, routine, go head