Luyện nghe bài hát We Made It

Make me pop sumthin', no champagne
Two-five on me, weed and on me
Bitch tried to get a rep' 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 niggas a lot of wardrobes
And if we want a dead we pay the cash
I ain't tryin to waste my on y'all
scuffle with y'all, waste gear on y'all
But if I go out, you know I'mma show out
You gon' fuck around and get your whole blown out
I remember on the Island, tone out
The mess crawler, about to zone out
Dumb motherfuckers our microphone out
We just dumb with our microphone out

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

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

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

Analyze This shit Deniro, words in your center earhole
Blocks of ice like Sub-Zero, we been right since day
Shatter your soul glass windows
Turn virgins to nymphos, pop these hollows at fake in a Tahoe
Wild out, throw your liquor bottles at rats to the richest models
We conversate Christ and the twelve apostles
Livin without you, can't count you as great men
in the state pen', bein caged in
The wages of sin, before read up they pop our tape in
You ain't gotta you chain in cuz here we want the head of Satan
and our pants hangin