Luyện nghe bài hát They Can't Stop Us!

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

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

187 Khadafi, murder niggas
In six foot motherfuckin'
If you fuck with Tru clique
Nigga you gettin' your wig

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Killer, murder topics put my goals if y'all think can stop it
bangin', hangin' 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 niggas it
Baton Rouge to St. Louis to Cincinnati
Got niggas up in Atlanta like addicts
Gotta this gangster shit, this real shit

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

'97 to 2000 A.D. little kids wanna be me I'm 'bout it, I'm rowdy
The and the press, them motherfuckers want me out
For runnin' my own shit, 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 and stay true to the gizzame
Be about your paper, nigga fuck the third ward nigga
the hill it ain't no limit to this gangster shit
Blunt and keepin' it real

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

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

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

Got fangs like a cobra now I got like a Rover
You don't fuck with us whether you up like a hangover
From the city 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
Bust one line, and make niggas their whole rhyme
I'm the Shocker, yeah, I got
It's Tru motherfuckers, and can't stop us and it's on