Luyện nghe bài hát Threat

Yo once a pimp gets
That's right, that's the, the that's, threats them
And I'm serious about mine, I'm so
And I, nigga I'll kill ya, I'll ya up
Put ya inside the like drug money nigga

Yeah, I done you niggas
9 or 10 stop fucking with me
I told you niggas
9 albums, fucking with me
I told you niggas
The 9 on me, stop with me
You must got 9 lives
9th

Put knife in ya, take a little bit of life from ya
Am I ya? Shall I continue?
I put the gun to ya, I let it you a song
I let it hum to ya, the other one along
Now it's a duet, and you wet, when you out
The technique the 2 tecs and I don't need two lips
To blow this like a you dumb shit
is a unusual musical I conducting
You looking at the Warren Buffett so all critics can duck sic
I don't care if you C. Delores
Or you Bill O'Reilly, you ryling me up
For three years, they had me out of a cup
Now they to free me up, what you think I'm goin' be, what?
Rehabilitated, man I still feel
I'm young black and rich so want to strip me naked, but
You never had me like Aguiler-why
But catch me down the Westside, like Halle Berry
Or the FDR, in the of my car
Screaming out the sunroof to y'all
You can't kill me, I live forever these bars
I put the wolves on ya, I put a on your head
The whole hood'll want ya, you starting to look bread
I send them boys at ya, I ain't talking Feds
them body-snatchers, nigga you heard what I said

I make 'em wait for you 'til five in the
Put your smarts on the of your garment
Nigga fuckin with me
R.I.P.

That's right nigga, nigga I'm wild
I keep trash bags with me
Never know when you gotta a nigga out
This sincere, this some shit right here!

Grown man I put on you
I dig a hole in the desert, they The Sands on you
Lay out plans on you
We Rat Pack niggas, let Sam tap on you
Then, I shot ya God damn you
I put the boy in the box David Blaine
Let the audience watch, it ain't a
Y'all I was fronting, I George Bush the button
Front of all you in your car up your hood nigga run it
Then lift up your hood like you got oil under it
Your boy got the goods y'all don't nothing of it
Like, oil, I Castor Troy you
Change face or the bullets change all that for you
Y'all niggas is
Y'all garages for bullets, don't make me park it
In upper level, valet a couple strays
From the 38 special, nigga, God you

Yeah I'm threatening ya, I'm threatening ya!
Who you thank you with?
They call me Chris, nigga I been making
I been in kindergarten nigga!
Huh, ask about me, see if you heard

When the gun is tucked, untucked, nigga you
Like held by the Jet L-I
I'm the one, thus no one must try
No two, no three, no four, know
Because one's four-five might blow yo'
You ain't gotta go to church to get to yo' God
It's a made in heaven when I 'splay the 7
Put you on the news, UPN at 11
Where you been, you ain't heard, got the that I'm
That I'm so
I'm especially Joe Pesci with a
I will you, commit suicide, and kill you again
That's