Luyện nghe bài hát We Got Cha Opin (Part 2)

(Rah-Digga)
I be the worst Nick
To all them mc
Like 4 little kids
And the gettin plugged
I don't a fuck style
Tell me come
I kix and swishees
Coppin wit 2 counterfeit 50's

Dirty rhyme spit mucous
uncoothe
And raise the like Lukas
12 years rocked through all phases
your peeps scream the bitch was the blazest

(Spliff Starr)
Niggas run they about my click
Not
I your bloodclot
Then you upon the sidewalk
(Chi-chi-chi-Blow!!!)
Hit ya ass wit a vicious
You my style
the foul
Through stereo
Starr ignorant immigrant
I'm it
Money, fast car, fine broads,
I'm it (that's right)
Raw i'm spittin it
At you and
Make you the pain nigga
Like the to your balls
Thug blood
Pumpin in the face of my
Drop the street
Watch the whole world to it
Squad!!!

(Baby Sham)
Squad had em
Had his bitch
by the bar
Sippin totein
Pinky rings
Triple to the club
My man is half
Giving me and holdin grudge
my shit
So I can put a lock on clik
Your is past tense
Hold on, on
You just rappin
Ever since you the shit
We fuckin wit it's
Slow growth
the show
Go at you
Hit you more bars than soap
is the name
Feelin
for dope
(Buckshot)
Yeah, you we got cha opin!!!

Don't front, you we got cha opin kid
front, you know we got cha opin kid
Don't front, you know we got cha kid
Don't front, you know we got cha kid
Don't front, you we got cha opin kid
Yo, frontin, you know we got cha opin kid
Don't front, you we got cha opin kid
Stop frontin, you know we got cha kid

(Ramoage)
made me mad
And now I clap shit (Uh)
I reign supreme in this rap shit
I lost my
I get it back
The way I'm spittin, yo
I ya fuckin wig back
front, my squad got you opin
Hit you a buck fifty
a token
Ramp is
I'm no and
I leave your face
is survival of the fittest
Get wit us
All you critics and
My nine bang
I'm talkin street
I'm reppin
I'm doing my thang
On the
We won't let it
don't hide

(Lord Mercy)
Landlord
Switch lanes no
The general, generator
Master and
Nigga stay massive in
tooth shatter ya die bone
In the savage of cops, sirens, and cases
Who read the for basics?
When I'm crooked eye rivals
in God's places
of all
Now who
on the draw
a paw
For loved ones blood runs cold in the winter
the criminal thoughts
Villains warp with the force
the ledge
Stay focused photo lens
And wings like Cobra heads
I'm old and dead

(Busta)
Hot shit,
You know we blocks
in the streets system
All in your knocks shit
for no reason back the fifth
And he it
Rock shit, we make mad
And wanna pop
and attractive
Niggas is
Chemotherapy
Lyrics
When I hit
It get my dick
In my
the stars
On how to defeat all
In a new
I'm on a new
Make most of the rapper niggas
Wanna find a new
Like jeans
My style two-tone
Pass my blue
Here's one of the best of Busta own
My made you
who
Shit so much
You wish you play out
So you blaze, too
I shout you
Or give to doubt you
I study shit and re-analyze everything you
My rhymes on the
Niggas know we
Everything up in stash and in the reserve
that!!!
Hook up all my lyrics on the echos and the
Never with these herbs
My squad superb

(Buckshot)
(Heh) thru the streets
Undercovers follow us,
on the regular to bust
us
We don't get
wha-what?
Dirty jeans
Black napsack something for ya gut
skully
Fully strapped, bulletproof, and match
Quick,
up a batch
Of bullets to up the map

Collapse, doing this in the raps
In the long time, ya
Buck em react
God verse
Let em know the is still black
And a fact...

front, you know we got cha opin, kid
Don't front, you we got cha opin, kid
front, you know we got cha opin, kid
Yo stop frontin, ya know we got cha
front, you know we got cha opin, yo
Don't front, you we got cha opin, kid
Don't front, you we got cha opin, kid
Yo stop frontin, you know we got cha

Huh, life
Mad niggas
Yeah, life
Flipmode, Buckshot
Mad niggas
to ya brain!!!!!