Luyện nghe bài hát They Can't Stop Us!

What's up
I told y'all it's about to be on,
We drop shit anytime we to huh
Fell this nigga, it's

Flippin' the the game niggas got that 'cane
Murder Mr. still in the rap game
It's 1997, my niggas to heaven
Rest in peace 2Pac from Master P, 2-11s

187 Khadafi, puttin' niggas
In six motherfuckin' gurters
If you fuck this Tru clique
you gettin' your wig spilt

Who run this gangster
(No runnin' this)
It's to be it, 187 Khadafi
on ghetto dope with these gangster topics
Still makin' scrilla your neighborhood dealer

Ice cream tattooed up real nigga
In the rap game pushin'
Flippin' the water, from to Florida
Choppin' to the knuckleheads

And spittin' voodoo on the chicken heads
Down south hustlin', to the coast
Got nigga choppin' game, I mean rap shit in to dope
Puttin' in packages, independent spittin' shit

Standing on stages bullet-proof vests, lookin' for other cliques
But who be the next nigga to die in this rap game
Or drop a hit on the wrong
'Cause they talkin' shit other niggas
Now it's a war zone, in rap game

But they can't us Tru niggas
They can't stop us Tru
They stop us Tru niggas
They can't stop us Tru
'Cause if y'all kill one, they'll be a million other in line

With dope, bustin' ghetto rhymes y'all
Running from the one not mines
Posted up, hostin' up like
Down south huster, throwin'

Ready to block a football player
Got 17 rounds for y'all haters
So jump on ghetto shit and come get this wicked shit
And jump up on this rap game and watch a spit

Killer, murder put my goals if y'all think y'all can stop it
Hardcore bangin', slaingin'
Nigga down for whatever why we bangin' on wax
Into traps, got Beats by the Pound like slaingin' sacks

In the 'hood, up to no good, got 'bout it
From Baton Rouge to St. Louis to
Got niggas lined up in Atlanta like
Gotta have this gangster shit, this real

From this motherfuckin' Tru clique, givin' up, living raw
And if we die, fuck it, sell my 'dro to the next gangster
Rest in peace Easy-E., but I'm out makin' scrilla
So fuck y'all laws and y'all motherfuckin' police cars
Comin' through with
And killers long live the drug dealer

'97 to 2000 A.D. little kids be me 'cause I'm 'bout it, I'm rowdy
The government and the press, them want me out
For runnin' my own shit, niggas sellin' their
Like the slaves sold souls to 30 cents break bread

Don't you know 15 percent of you made?
You a sucker, a clucker, so rappin' hardcore
You hip-hop motherfuckers and true to the gizzame
Be about your paper, nigga the fizzame third ward nigga
Runnin' the hill it ain't no limit to this shit
Blunt and keepin' it real

Y'all can't stop us Tru
Y'all can't stop us Tru
can't stop us Tru niggas
'Cause if y'all one, they'll be a million more Tru niggas

Bitch it be Slikk choppin' and kickin' like karate
Fast like a Mazzeroti, crime boss like Gotti
Look into face, niggas afraid of me
deeper into their eyes, they scared
Yeah y'all scared of me

'Cause I flow like water run like Ki-Jana Carter
Tell 'em, I'ma be watch [Incomprehensible] like the French Quarter
for whatever bow down nigga never
Buck like a wet you up like bad weather

Got fangs like a cobra now I got Range a Rover
You don't fuck us whether you fucked up like a hangover
the city where busters lie from the city where suckers die
Make way for P and Silkk, two of the baddest motherfuckers

Bitch it's your time, bitch I want the whole
Bust one line, and make niggas change their whole
I'm the Shocker, yeah, I got
Tru motherfuckers, and y'all can't stop us and it's on