Luyện nghe bài hát What Son What

[Noreaga -
Lets it grimy! (get with that shit)
What y'all get man?
What y'all murder unit (murder unit)
or burn (burn unit)
Get a real life unit (real life fuckin unit)
A unit; a motherfuckin, CNN shit (CNN!)
My nigga Swift on the fours (fours)
We out y'all (what!)
Yo, yo.. we out y'all!
Capone-N-Noreaga]
[N] I say I don't really give a
[C] Why do don't really give the
[N] Cause I really give a fuck
[C] So we don't really give the
[N] You roll with me?
[C] Hell
[N] son what!? You gon' roll with me?
[C] yeah
[N] What son what!? You roll with me?
[C] Hell
[N] son what!? You gon' ride with me?
[C] Hell
[N] What son what!? You gon' die me?
[C] Hell
[N] son what!?

Right bill I stack another war, story and track
Settle for money; hungry cats peddle the crack
Some strive to be the man but make it that's the granted further
What part you playin the game, who gonna worker
pray to Jesus, I pray to Jes to free us
Don't look for bail Rufus bail Court
When a judge holla Father you
Cats never sent a nigga to jail, they him bail
I been as real as I free lunch
I got the greats this old man give me hearse and,
I made a move from a plan scauwered new land (fuck a van)
My shoes bang, ficticious niggaz, walk in the path I lead (I lead)
Do in New York, money and murder
Gentleman talk, ball like Atlanta
No respect, on the stacks of the court
I started off in the thing, triple it's on

[M.A.Z.E.]
Ya niggaz livin a lie, the same
Its no room, no BI for in the game
See me I, stay it pop
Off the chain like my diss and it
the same is the strippin the spot
I'm hot, rock glizzery the bottom to top
Grizzy, don't let it pop, he spy on these hoes
To off the killer in me
Me and six will through it (through it)
Bronx to the con do it
I see Don P calm as me, spazin dead on your cheek
green to my eye, shit, write it down sincere
Get to say my in the air
pipe down, put they mic down
Niggaz scared that we ain't even yet
Yet this we show ya all who the hottest (hottest)
The projects, I rep to my (rep it nigga!)
X'd out hoes, we (X'd out hoes!)
We ain't sharin or 'boes; see how we go?
[Chorus] - with adlibs

Keep the Mac under the
To niggaz ready to creep
And my stayin with heat
Like the hook go - son what!?
Like the go - what son what!?
See me in the though
With a though, with a little puppet
And we doing no though
Pussy sub, sub, through the club
Niggaz don't need no
I rather, get head, I need no ass
Fuck all of y'all, y'all don't rep for me
I you, and you ain't the set for me
I'm in different vicinities, gettin with your enemies
So niggaz better stop
Before I get the and just start sprayin
your block on lock, so now you go
Nigga, I sell bricks like my name


It's no rumor what you hear us in clubs
Or freight some young
No protect the shot for your mug
Snake niggaz hear the move, every chance get
Rap niggaz dead 'em on the advance they get
Hustlin niggaz, I catch y'all
Soon as papi hit you, I'm right behind you holding it
Ya niggaz, got it
Pop bottles and
Might fit, make you out of your jewels
A more richer
Every sixteenth spit a little sicker
Rap for M.A.Z.E. cause that's my
I it for the streets
My bitches and freaks, lacking to twenty G's
Thugging week, stylin out, Violator I'm wildin out
MU and thugged out, them hoes about
We off the yell dogg, the entire know this
Cause me and M.A.Z.E. bet fire, thugged out strong,


Huh? Huh? We say son what!?
What? Yeah (stop playing.. motherfucker)
Yeah, we say what son what!?
Huh? Yeah, yeah; we say what son what!?
Huh? Huh? Yeah yeah, we say what son what!?
unit, burn unit; my nigga Swift on the motherfuckin four's
What
{*Noreaga continues to in background*}
[Funkmaster Flex - end of Noreaga]
Yeah, baby!
Out! Shout to Martin Moore
Shout to my man
is happenin baby
Sixty Minutes of Volume Four (okay)
to Irv Gotti (ill sound, murder)