Luyện nghe bài hát We

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

Double shotgun (blaow), pop son
I nigga, just not run
I saw him on 205th in
This dog was frozen, so my high heat him (Wu!)
I blown ya, you need a donor
My bitch ghetto, Florida and Laronia (girl)
mat hoes, who want clothes?
I flow checks, one by six o's (six o's)
I got hoes, in codes, in areas
Four ton whips that's sittin' on
The bass shake in the club it's earthquakin'
I cock arm, the bomb, like Troy Aikman (Aikman)
Play the basement like Wayne and Dick Grayson
You miserable, you get kidnapped by Kathy
Thrown to the dungeon, for spongin'
Of Wu Bee, what's your total malfunction?

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

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

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 money til the way we

Yeah, all ya'll can see is the back of my
in the wind, goin' back to Jersey
Off to Brooklyn, left you back in
I was a buck 90 like a throwback jersey
Shame on a Nigga, it back to Dirty
Run, game on a nigga, I'll be in thirty
Seconds, got the greatest record
And that money I'mma spend it like greatest record
This Division, all the respect it
Disrespect it and the eighty'll it
It ain't hard to see how ya'll the steel
that I clap, lookin' for me still
Til they like they came out of George Foreman grill
Thoughts are stolen on Free, be on them crills
Plus my, gon' be holdin' like forty mill'
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 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