Luyện nghe bài hát We Pop (Remix)

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

Double barrel (blaow), pop son
I told nigga, not run
I saw him on in Fordham
dog was frozen, so my high heat thawed him (Wu!)
I ya, you need a blood donor
My bitch ghetto, Florida and Laronia (girl)
mat hoes, who want clothes?
I checks, one followed by six o's (six o's)
I got hoes, in codes, in areas
Four ton whips sittin' on interiors
The bass shake in the club like earthquakin'
I cock arm, the bomb, like Troy Aikman (Aikman)
Play the basement like Bruce Wayne and Dick
You miserable, you get kidnapped by Bason
Thrown to the dungeon, for your
Of Wu Killa Bee, what's your malfunction?

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 (brawl), get money til the way we

Come on, cut the crap, money
been gettin' this rap money
Crack money, stack money, I'm tryin' to get that money
Mike Tyson, Michael Jordan, Michael Jack' money
Five hundred and better, dog, yeah, now that's money
Act funny, ya'll make me (haha)
like you tough, you softer than a baby's ass
These lazy ass labels -- you! Pay me cash
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 money til the way we

Yeah, all ya'll can see is the 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
Shame on a Nigga, it back to Dirty
Run, game on a nigga, I'll be back in
Seconds, got the world's greatest
And that money spend it like your greatest record
This Division, all the ladies it
it and the eighty'll check it
It ain't hard to see how ignorin' the steel
Niggas that I clap, lookin' for me
Til they like they came out of George Foreman grill
Thoughts are stolen on Free, must be on crills
my, team 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 through your bedroom (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