Luyện nghe bài hát Tony Yayo Explosion

[50
Yeah,

- 50 Cent]
As times go by, I a lot
with me and my niggas, somebody gonna die
You think I'm all poinry, you see me gettin' high
But my knife, I'll yo ass seein' out one eye

As go by, I twist a lot
Fuck with me and my niggas, gonna die
You think I'm all poinry, cause you see me high (yeah)
But my knife, I'll yo ass seein' out one eye

1 - Tony Yayo]
740 I, the brand new shake (uh huh)
Got me on hoes like the R. Kelly tape
If you see me in the club, nothin' but poppin' (yeah)
See me in court, my plea bargainin' (woo)
Tryin' to a 3 to 6, to a 2 to 4 (uh huh)
Or 1 to 3, for an G
RIP to Etho, I miss
I die, I hope heaven look like the ghetto (yeah)
Picture me trick, and a loss
I'm cheap like the Chinese man duck sauce
This Tony homey, I walk around with a big
9 L's will hit ya passenger, hit ya
G-Unit, you know a fuckin' clique liver
(You my nigga, you don't know a fuckin' clique liver)

As times go by, I a lot
Fuck with me and my niggas, somebody die (yeah)
You I'm all poinry, cause you see me gettin' high (uh huh)
But my knife, I'll yo ass seein' out one eye (eye)

As times go by, I a lot
Fuck with me and my niggas, somebody die
You think I'm all poinry, cause you see me gettin'
But my knife, have yo ass seein' out one eye

[Verse 2 - Yayo]
I never mix and product with my friends (uh huh)
These chips, make relationships to an end (what)
I pull the graveyard shift, gettin' non-stop (uh huh)
And been on the block, ever since bunny (c'mon)
250 grizzies, the plate (scrape that plate)
Got me on 750's straight from the plate (straight the plate)
You can call on soldiers, call your recruits (uh huh)
I do you dirty like Raheem did is "Juice" (Juice)
Allow myself, to introduce
is Tony, the talk of New York, I'm holdin' the belt
I got thug in my blood (blood), game a pimp (pimp)
And wrote my verse, takin' baths in the sink (yeah)
And yo I fear no man son, I never heard of a one
Never gotta borrow a
Niggas on the street, gettin' smoked like son
So I stay dirty "Sanford and Son" (yeah)
Groupies stay runnin' their lips (woo)
Cause they seen the Gucci in the 6 (uh huh)
And the Fendi grips on the four fifth (what)
Shit, I sell bricks, shit, I shit on a stick (stick)
Enough of the talkin', let's it to the valance (uh huh)
The New York streets, will leave you physically (challenged)
be surprised, If I spit at you
Then to your wake, and serve fiends at your funeral
Our bread is goin' a brick of dope
Cause been goin' hand and hand since "Different Strokes"
I'm a 50, an eighth, you a a blunt
You the nigga in the mirror that stunts
WHAT!