Luyện nghe bài hát Three

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

Yo dunn, we got guns in the grass, it's at night
I'm about to the last swallow of the Eases Jesus
Who got on the next tree, we gotta stop at the store
We need D batteries for the theme
Snatch the from out the lawn
Fuck a cab, lets take cracked-out Yolanda's
We that bitch two wibbles
And skated off her vehicle for that pillow
All outside the borough, what happened to Queens
Supton(?) and 1-2-1, Farmers and 116th
The got us on the B-Q-E, just to get a of that greenery
We took our smoke out to Island, posted up by the Himalaya
Colada champales mixed with Dani'
That's St. Ide's in lingo
Spillin it on the for our dead people
I spark the sequel shit; my niggaz got lungs
When we smoke, that shit only go once
Dogs, we just time
just got they shit twisted on the block fuckin up the grind
So, 'til it down
We just going at these sluts - bitch, we wanna right now
{*overlapped my Cormega's first

Son I'm on a bench high eatin chicken wings and fries
A crackhead spent his last bucks on six dimes
I'm one gram big time, a spliff away from overdosin
My is broken, my man started smokin again
P, I heard the open again
I spoke to Flex he said he's let both of us in
Its time to load up the and semis
I wish my bank was in a physical form unlike
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 still
Yo, three in the morning and the D's on the still
Seems we were born to kill, yo P meet me on the
So we can jet through Queens in
Show these motherfuckers how we rep this thang, ya