Luyện nghe bài hát THRT (The End)

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

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

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

Now a duet, and you wet, when you check out
The from the 2 tecs 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 Warren Buffett so all critics can sic
I don't care if you C. Tuck-it
Or you Bill O'Reilly, you only me up
For three years, had me peein' out of a cup

Now 'bout to free me up, whatchu think I'm gon' be, what?
Rehabilitated, man I still 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 can't kill me, I live forever 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 boys at ya, I ain't bout Feds
them body-snatchers, nigga you heard what I said

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

right there nigga, nigga I'm wild
Nigga I keep trash with me
Never know when you gotta a nigga out
sin-surr, this some sin-surr shit right here

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

I put the boy in the box David Blaine
Let the watch, it ain't a thang
Y'all wish I was frontin', I George the button
Front of all you in your car lift up your hood run it

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

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

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

Yeah I'm threatenin' ya, I'm threatenin' ya
Who you thank you with?
They call me Chris, nigga I makin' threats
Since I been in kindergarten
Huh, ask me, see if you ain't heard

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

Because one's four-five might yo' high
You ain't go to church to get to know 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 heard, got the word that I'm
That I'm so
I'm Joe Pesci with a grin
I will kill you, commit suicide, and kill you again, that's

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

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

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