Luyện nghe bài hát We

We pop, we brawl, gettin' money til the day we

barrel shotgun (blaow), pop son
I told nigga, not run
I saw him on in Fordham
dog was frozen, so my high heat thawed him (Wu!)
I blown ya, you need a blood
My bitch ghetto, like Florida and (girl)
mat hoes, who want clothes?
I checks, one followed by six o's (six o's)
I got hoes, in codes, in areas
Four ton that's sittin' on interiors
The bass shake in the club like earthquakin'
I cock arm, pass the bomb, Troy Aikman (Aikman)
Play the basement Bruce Wayne and Dick Grayson
You miserable, you get kidnapped by Bason
to the dungeon, for your spongin'
Of Wu Killa Bee, what's your total

We pop, we brawl, get til the day we fall (yeah)
My glock (my glock), my (my four)
throw shots your bedroom door (bedroom door)
From the P's, to the morgue, cop Louie all the way to my (New York)
We pop (pop), we brawl (brawl), get til the way we fall

on, let's cut the crap, money
I've been this rap money
Crack money, stack money, I'm tryin' to get that money
That Mike Tyson, Michael Jordan, Jack' money
Five hundred and better, dog, yeah, now that's money
Act funny, make me laugh (haha)
Frontin' you tough, you softer than a baby's ass
lazy ass labels -- fuck you! Pay me cash
My path promoted me into a Mercedes class

We pop, we brawl, get money til the day we (yeah)
My glock (my glock), my (my four)
shots through your bedroom door (bedroom door)
From the P's, to the morgue, cop all the way to my drawers (New York)
We pop (pop), we brawl (brawl), get til the way we fall

Yeah, all ya'll can see is the back of my
in the wind, goin' back to Jersey
Off to Brooklyn, left you in Jersey
I was doin' a buck 90 a throwback jersey
Shame on a Nigga, it back to Dirty
Run, game on a nigga, I'll be back in
Seconds, got the greatest record
And that money I'mma spend it your greatest record
This Division, all the ladies it
it and the eighty'll check it
It hard to see how ya'll ignorin' the steel
Niggas that I clap, for me still
Til they look like came out of George Foreman grill
are stolen on Free, must be on them crills
Plus my, team gon' be holdin' like forty
Thoughts are rollin' on E., must be on pills

We pop, we brawl, get til the day we fall (yeah)
My (my glock), my four (my four)
throw shots through your door (bedroom door)
From the P's, to the morgue, cop all the way to my drawers (New York)
We pop (pop), we brawl (brawl), get til the way we fall