Luyện nghe bài hát Three

[Prodigy and
For my niggas
Right,
Shooting at cops what
For my G-pack
the police
N.Y.P.D. - New York Pricks and
They can't our floss
up (for you crackheaded bitches)
For my A.M. niggas (for you bitches)
My Meridian niggaz; what up dunn?
Liqour closed
Hit the bootlegger, hit the bootlegger
up, yo

Yo dunn, we got in the grass, it's three at night
I'm about to the last swallow of the Eases Jesus
Who got fifty on the next tree, we gotta stop at the
We need D for the theme music
Snatch the from out the lawn
a cab, lets take cracked-out Yolanda's Saab
We gave that bitch two
And off with her vehicle for that pillow
All outside the borough, dunn what to Queens
Like Supton(?) and 1-2-1, and 116th
The got us on the B-Q-E, just to get a of that greenery
We our smoke out to Coney Island, posted up by the Himalaya
Pina Colada champales mixed with
That's St. Ide's in dunn
it on the floor for our dead people
While I spark the shit; my niggaz got lungs
When we smoke, that shit only go around
Dogs, we killin time
Somebody just got they shit twisted on the fuckin up the grind
So, it pipe down
We just going at these sluts - bitch, we wanna right now
{*overlapped my Cormega's line*}

Son I'm on a bench high eatin chicken and french fries
A crackhead fuck his last bucks on six dimes
I'm one gram from big time, a spliff from overdosin
My heart is broken, my man smokin again
P, I heard the tunnel open
I spoke to Flex he he's gonna let both of us in
Its time to up the autos and semis
I wish my niggas bank was in a physical form
I got my uptown nikes out and icy
Mad deep, out the Cocaine white Jeep
Through was strugglin, so I resume
Rap game or crack game my crew is bubblin
Yo, three in the morning and the D's on the corna
Seems we were born to kill, yo P me on the hill
So we can jet through Queens in
these motherfuckers how we rep this thang, ya know?