Luyện nghe bài hát What Son What - Capone-N-Noreaga

[Noreaga -
Lets it grimy! (get with that shit)
y'all niggaz get man?
What y'all gets unit (murder unit)
or burn (burn unit)
Get a fuckin life unit (real life fuckin unit)
A unit; a motherfuckin, CNN shit (CNN!)
My Swift on the motherfuckin fours (fours)
We out y'all (what!)
Yo, yo.. we out y'all!

[Chorus:
[N] I say I don't really a fuck
[C] Why do don't give the fuck?
[N] Cause I don't really a fuck
[C] So we don't give the fuck
[N] You gon' with me?
[C] Hell
[N] What son what!? You roll with me?
[C] yeah
[N] son what!? You gon' roll with me?
[C] Hell
[N] What son what!? You gon' ride me?
[C] yeah
[N] What son what!? You die with me?
[C] yeah
[N] son what!?

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

[M.A.Z.E.]
Ya niggaz a lie, spittin the same
Its no room, no BI for in the game
See me I, stay it pop
Off the chain like my and it rocks
the same is the strippin the spot
I'm hot, rock from the bottom to top
Grizzy, don't let it pop, didn't he spy on these
To off the killer in me
Me and six will slick it (through it)
Bronx to the con do it
I see Don P calm as me, like spazin dead on your
Like green to my eye, shit, it down sincere
Get to say my in the air
Niggaz down, put they mic down
Niggaz scared that we ain't even yet
Yet year 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 fillin see how we go?

[Chorus] - with Noreaga

Keep the Mac the seat
To fast niggaz to creep
And my stayin with heat
Like the hook go - son what!?
Like the shit go - son what!?
See me in the hood
With a hood though, with a little
And we doing no though
Pussy sub, pussy sub, through the
Niggaz need no math
I rather, get head, I need no ass
all of y'all, y'all don't really rep for me
I you, and you ain't the set for me
I'm in different vicinities, high with your enemies
So niggaz better playin
I get the M-One and just start sprayin
Keep your on lock, so now you go
Nigga, I sell bricks like my name

It's no rumor what you hear about us in
Or freight some young
No vest the shot for your mug
Snake niggaz the move, every chance they get
Rap I'ma dead 'em on the advance they get
Hustlin niggaz, I catch y'all
as papi hit you, I'm right behind you holding it down
Ya niggaz, got it
Pop and boo's
Might fit, make you come out of your
A more richer
Every spit a little more sicker
Rap for M.A.Z.E. that's my nigga
I it for the streets
My bitches and freaks, four to twenty G's
Thugging every week, stylin out, 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? We say what son what!?
Huh? Yeah (stop playing.. motherfucker)
Yeah, yeah; we say son what!?
Huh? Huh? Yeah, we say what son what!?
Huh? Huh? Huh? Yeah yeah, we say son what!?
Burn unit, burn unit; my Swift on the motherfuckin four's
What

{*Noreaga to adlib in background*}

[Funkmaster - over end of Noreaga]
Yeah, baby!
Thugged Out! to Martin Moore
Shout to my man
Things is happenin
Sixty Minutes of Volume Four (okay)
to Irv Gotti (ill sound, murder)