Luyện nghe bài hát We Made It

Make me wan' pop sumthin', no
on me, weed and crack on me
Bitch motherfucker tried to get a off me
him there, never know, get him off me
I days when we just fucked bitches
Bought a lot of and, played the ave
Now we rap with a lot of wardrobes
And if we a nigga dead we pay the cash
I ain't tryin to waste my career on
Even scuffle with y'all, waste on y'all
But if I gotta go out, you know show out
You gon' fuck around and get your whole blown out
I remember on the Island, can't out
The mess crawler, about to zone out
Dumb with our microphone out
We just dumb with our microphone out

See me
I roll with Ghost and cats that they toast
Make the Post, page and, center-Stagin'
When time to bust off them things, it ain't a game man
We rocked out own rings, see them 'Bling, Bling'
Got big boy toys, push
Dime bitches, told y'all before we import
Jury stay froze, cases get closed
Niggas hate Nino cuz how I rose up
George Jefferson and em, steppin on em
The read, "Starks had the weapon on em"
The best, y'all expect? He a vet
Plus the best, now me how we gon' fail
When we dealin with Clientele']

From Rikers Island to the Island
We thugs like, life is the same
Do the knowledge, your talent
And if you the streets, you better stay silent
From Rikers to the Cayman Island
We thugs like, life is the same
Do the knowledge, your talent
And if you live the streets, you better silent

Yo, spotted at The Mirage, Ghostface by groupies
Mingle amongst stars, I come in cat, Mars
Highlight of the century, first bet placed entry
Fainted when the book me
Keep ballin, new systems, sciences
that, Ghost listenin, track sizzlin
Angelica, Plum for bitches, Goines king of the century
sellers for niggas, stay together
Posted up trucks, on the Benz
smile shot in thrity-five lens
You program, bottles of Dom
Seven inch bangles, back
I'm a dope fiend, look at my arm, strength
Rap with a accent, Gucci clothes
Dennis Coles in the fashions
Blow backs in, flip raps fourty-eight bundles
Dinner plates, deadly front gates, celeb Bryant

Analyze This shit like Deniro, words in center earhole
Blocks of ice like Sub-Zero, we been right since day
Shatter soul like glass windows
Turn virgins to nymphos, pop these hollows at fake cats in a
out, throw your liquor bottles at hood rats to the richest models
We conversate like and the twelve apostles
Livin life you, can't count you as great men
Murderers in the state pen', bein in
The wages of sin, before they read up they pop our in
You ain't gotta tuck you chain in cuz here we want the head of
Durags and our pants