Luyện nghe bài hát What Son What

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

Right every bill I stack war, story and track
Settle down for money; hungry peddle the crack
Some strive to be the man but never make it the granted further
What part you the game, who gonna slash worker
Some'll pray to Jesus, I pray to Jes to us
Don't look for bail Rufus bail Criminal
When a judge holla Father you
never sent a nigga to jail, they send him bail
I been as real as I stealin free
I got the greats this old man give me hearse and,
I a move from a plan scauwered new land (fuck a blue van)
My shoes bang, ficticious niggaz, walk in the path that I (I lead)
Do crime in New York, and murder
Gentleman talk, ball like Hawk
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, where it pop
Off the chain like my diss and it
Movin the is the strippin the spot
I'm hot, rock glizzery the bottom to top
Grizzy, don't let it pop, didn't he spy on hoes
To piss off the in me
Me and six will through it (through it)
Bronx to the con do it
I see Don P calm as me, like spazin dead on your
green to my eye, shit, write it down sincere
Get to say my in the air
Niggaz down, put they mic down
scared that we ain't even drop yet
Yet this year we show ya all who the (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 the seat
To niggaz ready to creep
And my niggaz stayin heat
Like the go - what son what!?
Like the go - what son what!?
See me in the though
a hood though, with a little puppet
And we doing no though
Pussy sub, pussy sub, the club
Niggaz don't need no
I rather, get head, I don't no ass
Fuck all of y'all, don't really rep for me
I you, and you ain't the set for me
I'm in different vicinities, gettin high with your
So niggaz stop playin
Before I get the M-One and just sprayin
Keep your on lock, so now you go
Nigga, I sell bricks my name Alpo


It's no rumor you hear about us in clubs
Or freight some Blood
No vest the shot for your mug
niggaz hear the move, every chance they get
Rap niggaz dead 'em on the advance they get
niggaz, I catch y'all Uptown
Soon as papi hit you, I'm right behind you it down
Ya niggaz, got it
Pop and boo's
Might fit, you come out of your jewels
A little richer
Every spit a little more sicker
Rap for M.A.Z.E. cause that's my
I it for the streets
My bitches and freaks, four 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
me and M.A.Z.E. bet fire, thugged out strong, motherfucker


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!?
Burn unit, burn unit; my nigga Swift on the four's
What
{*Noreaga continues to adlib in
[Funkmaster - over end of Noreaga]
Yeah, baby!
Thugged Out! Shout to Martin
Shout to my man
Things is baby
Sixty of Funk Volume Four (okay)
to Irv Gotti (ill sound, murder)