Luyện nghe bài hát We

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

Double barrel (blaow), pop son
I told nigga, not run
I saw him on 205th in
dog was frozen, so my high heat thawed him (Wu!)
I blown ya, you a blood donor
My bitch ghetto, Florida and Laronia (girl)
Laundry mat hoes, who clothes?
I checks, one followed by six o's (six o's)
I got hoes, in codes, in different
Four ton whips that's sittin' on
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
Thrown to the dungeon, for your
Of Wu Killa Bee, what's total malfunction?

We pop, we brawl, get til the day we fall (yeah)
My (my glock), my four (my four)
throw shots 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), get money til the way we fall

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

We pop, we brawl, get money til the day we (yeah)
My glock (my glock), my (my four)
throw shots through your bedroom (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 can see is the back of my jersey
Blowin' in the wind, back to Jersey
Off to Brooklyn, left you in Jersey
I was doin' a 90 like a throwback jersey
on a Nigga, take it back to Dirty
Run, game on a nigga, I'll be back in
Seconds, got the world's record
And that money I'mma it like your greatest record
Division, all the ladies respect it
Disrespect it and the check it
It hard to see how ya'll ignorin' the steel
Niggas that I clap, lookin' for me
Til they look like came out of George Foreman grill
Thoughts are stolen on Free, must be on them
my, team gon' be holdin' like forty mill'
Thoughts are rollin' on E., be on those pills

We pop, we brawl, get money til the day we (yeah)
My glock (my glock), my (my four)
throw shots through 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), get money til the way we fall