Luyện nghe bài hát They Can't Stop Us!

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

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

187 Khadafi, murder puttin'
In six foot gurters
If you fuck with this Tru
you gettin' your wig spilt

Who run this rap?
(No Limit this)
It's 'bout to be it, 187
Jumpin' on ghetto dope with these gangster
Still makin' your neighborhood drug dealer

Ice cream slaingin' tattooed up nigga
In the rap game quarters
Flippin' the water, from to Florida
game to the knuckleheads

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

Standing on stages with vests, lookin' for other cliques
But who be the next nigga to die in this rap game
Or drop a hit on the man?
'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
can't stop us Tru niggas
They can't stop us Tru
'Cause if y'all kill one, they'll be a million niggas in line

With ghetto dope, bustin' ghetto rhymes
Running the one time not mines
up, hostin' up like soldiers
Down huster, throwin' boulders

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

Killer, murder topics put my goals if 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 niggas sacks

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

From this motherfuckin' Tru clique, ain't givin' up, raw
And if we die, fuck it, sell my 'dro to the next nigga
Rest in Easy-E., but I'm out here makin' scrilla
So fuck y'all white laws and motherfuckin' police cars
Comin' through gangsters
And killers live the motherfuckin' drug dealer

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

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

Y'all stop us Tru niggas
Y'all stop us Tru niggas
Y'all stop us Tru niggas
'Cause if y'all kill one, they'll be a million Tru niggas

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

'Cause I flow like run shit like Ki-Jana Carter
Tell 'em, I'ma be there watch like the French Quarter
Down for whatever bow down nigga
Buck like a Beretta wet you up bad weather

Got like a cobra now I got Range like a Rover
You don't fuck with us whether you fucked up like a
From the 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 the whole nine
one line, and make niggas change their whole rhyme
I'm the Shocker, yeah, I got
It's Tru motherfuckers, and y'all stop us and it's on