Luyện nghe bài hát They Ain't Ready

Uh-huh, now what we do
Take it the Eastside... to the country
Ya feel me? Ya me?
Ya me? Tchka-tchka-tchka
the chorus!

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Jada talk so good, but brain is not ready
They don't know
Bubba talk so good, but they brain is not
They know know know

Uh-huh, uh-huh, uh,
Yo, uh, yeah, yo...
Aiyyo, I'll make ya head hurt
When the hawk the day off
I make the lead work, put you in the red dirt
Ice make 'em look like stars, they through
On the bikes, but they look cars, it's somethin new
and Jada talk soo good, but brain is
Nowhere next to ready for stainless
no helpin you when them thangs melt in you
and way down in Athens, 'Kiss is a ringer
bring the hood to the farm
Bless 'em with some purple haze, remove the wood from the
Introduce them to the yak and
And make sure Bubba Spark good, then I'm
Even if we run to war, I'ma run the raw
You can come and see me, I got 'em for
Double R and Beat Club, who as us?
"R3: In the 'R' We Trust,"

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[Bubba
Uh, uh...
Boy you silly if you saw them crackers ridin' them pigs
and I might would hit this robe for less than twenty-five a gig
Doin' sixty-five, I off acid and shitty bourbon
Took a minute to adjust, but right now big shit is workin
I'm white just by chance, but I'm country by graces
Nowadays I find myself laundry in odd places
But still, I keep it Bubba even into Mr. Kiss and
Brought 'em down to Athens, let 'em cut with my friend
Now we gettin' blitzed again, on the block in Yonkers
and Tim laced a track, man this shit is hot as bonkers
'Kiss, not to flaunt ya, but just them Betty's come here
I'm doin for my family y'all already done here
But Bubba is the and perhaps this is discussion
Of wither I'm that deal or a of Timb's percussion
know to him it's bustin, so just dap me up and frown on
Me and 'Kiss is necessary, that much you can count on,

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[Bubba
How did him and Bubba rise from this and this cow feces?
To you folks the hope for this changin' shall be me
Notice how he see, the for it's painting
and poured you up of this mixture before it was
See I was rydin' ruff only when me and D became
and I pledge to maintain it, be damned if change it
This shit is anus, ain't it? 'em, Kiss bring it home
I ryde or die Beat Club, won't bend for the sake of this song

The streets is mine, I stay with the still nine
And it's on nigga I'm stonger than corn liquor
like I pink-eyed, niggaz to be weeded
That's the industry needed
flippin' his flow, enemies heated
But we gon' let the pop
From the old rifles on the dirt
to the handguns on the blacktop, don't get the plot
This ain't a black or white politic thing cocksucker, a hot song

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