Luyện nghe bài hát THRT (The End)

Yo once a gets threats
right, that's the the that's, that's threats them
And I'm serious mine, I'm so sin-surr
And I, I'll kill ya, I'll chop ya up
Put ya inside the mattress like drug nigga

Yeah, I done told you niggaz 9 or 10 times fuckin' with me
I done told you niggaz 9 albums, stop with me
I done told you the 9 on me, stop fuckin' with me
You must got 9 lives, 9th wonder

Put that in ya, take a little bit of life from ya
Am I frightenin' ya? Shall I
I put the gun to ya, I let it sing you a
I let it hum to ya, the one sing along

Now it's a duet, and you wet, when you out
The technique from the 2 and I don't need two lips
To this like a trumpet you dumb shit
This is a musical I conductin'

You lookin' at the black Buffett so all critics can duck sic
I don't care if you C. Delores
Or you O'Reilly, you only rilin' me up
For years, they had me peein' out of a cup

Now they to free me up, whatchu think I'm gon' be, what?
Rehabilitated, man I feel hatred
I'm black and rich so they wanna strip me naked, but
You never had me like Christina

But catch me down the Westside, drivin' like Berry
Or the FDR, in the of my car
out the sunroof, death to y'all
You kill me, I live forever through these bars

I put the on ya, I put a price on your head
The hood'll want ya, you startin' to look like bread
I send them at ya, I ain't talkin' bout Feds
Nigga them body-snatchers, nigga you what I said

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

That's right there nigga, nigga I'm
Nigga I keep bags with me
Never know you gotta dump a nigga out
This sin-surr, some sin-surr shit right here

Grown man I put hands on you, I dig a in the desert
They The Sands on you, lay out blueprint plans on you
We Rat niggaz, let Sam tap dance on you
Then, I shot ya God damn you

I put the boy in the box David Blaine
Let the audience watch, it a thang
Y'all wish I was frontin', I Bush the button
Front of all you in your car lift up hood nigga run it

Then lift up whole hood like you got oil under it
Your boy got the goods, y'all want nuttin' of it
Like, castor oil, I Castor you
your face or the bullets change all that for you

Y'all niggaz is targets, garages for bullets
Please don't me park it in your upper level
Valet a couple from the 38 special, nigga
God you

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

Yeah I'm threatenin' ya, I'm threatenin' ya
Who you you dealin' with?
call me Chris, nigga I been makin' threats
Since I in kindergarten nigga
Huh, ask about me, see if you heard

the gun is tucked, untucked, nigga you dies
Like held by the Jet L-I
I'm the one, meanin' no one must try
No two, no three, no four, why?

one's four-five might blow yo' high
You ain't gotta go to church to get to yo' God
It's a match made in 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
I'm so sin-surr?
I'm Joe Pesci with a grin
I will kill you, commit suicide, and kill you again, right

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

Motherfucker I keep three motherfuckers what?
Nigga I'll throw a cocktail
Through your momma's house
Nigga what the, everybody live

nigga take your teeth out your mouth nigga
Chew food up and put the shit back
In your mouth nigga and help you
Nigga I take a mop off nigga
And sweep nigga, hold on, I'll be what?