Luyện nghe bài hát They Can't Stop Us!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Killer, topics put my goals if y'all think y'all can stop it
Hardcore bangin', hangin'
down for whatever that's why we bangin' on wax
Into traps, got Beats by the Pound like niggas sacks

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

this motherfuckin' Tru clique, ain't givin' up, living 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 y'all motherfuckin' cars
Comin' through gangsters
And killers long live the drug dealer

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

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

Y'all 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 Tru niggas

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

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

Got fangs like a cobra now I got Range a Rover
You don't with 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 motherfuckers alive

Bitch it's your time, bitch I want the whole
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