Luyện nghe bài hát They Can't Stop Us!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Ready to block like a player
Got these 17 rounds for haters
So jump on this ghetto shit and 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 y'all can 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 Rouge to St. Louis to Cincinnati
Got niggas up in Atlanta like addicts
Gotta have this gangster shit, real shit

this motherfuckin' Tru clique, ain't 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 here scrilla
So fuck y'all white laws and motherfuckin' police cars
through with gangsters
And long live the motherfuckin' drug dealer

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

Don't you 15 percent of what you made?
You a sucker, a clucker, so stop hardcore
You hip-hop motherfuckers and stay to the gizzame
Be about your paper, nigga fuck the fizzame ward nigga
Runnin' the it ain't no limit to this gangster shit
Blunt smokes and it real

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

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

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

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

Bitch it's time, bitch I want the whole nine
Bust one line, and make niggas change whole rhyme
I'm the Shocker, yeah, I got
It's Tru motherfuckers, and y'all stop us and it's on