Luyện nghe bài hát What We Do

Man, if I get rocked, this shit for my kids,
It's that shit

Even what we do is wrong

We hustle 'til the sun come up
Crack a 40 the sun go down
It's a cold winter, y'all niggaz better up
An' I bet it be a hotter summer, a onion

Yes, the ROC gets down, you hot now, up
Don't you know cops' whole purpose is to lock us
An' away the key, but without this drug shit
kids ain't got no way to eat

We try to keep Mom smilin'
when the teeth stop showin'
An' the stomach start growlin', the heat start flowin'
If you from the hood, I know you feel me, goin'

If a sneak start an' the heat stop workin'
Then my heat start workin', rob me a person
a nigga sleepin' while he out in the open
An' I'ma get him, flowin'

We gotta raise our kids while we
Make a million off a record, my niggaz outta prison
a Bentley or a Lexus, just my boys in the squadder
Nigga talk reckless, I hit 'em with the Smif an'

But I'm never snitchin', I'm a
If my kids hungry, snatch the out ya kitchen
I'll be wylin' til they me outta line up

We keep the nines tucked, dimes up, rap about it
Wyle out, fuck niggaz up, about it
I'm not tryin' to the morgue
But Freeway move out I sit with the Lord

'Til I get my together, clean up my sins
Freeway got it in like 10 in the
An' I can get it to ya 10 while you yawnin', man

deliver the order, man
An' I ain't 'bout chicken an' gravy, man
I'm talkin' 'bout bricks 'o ye yo, halves an'
4 an' a of hash, you do the math

Swing past us, scoop up your
She wanna roll wit' a that rap, you do the math
He won't 'til my stacks in order

Man, get 'em Free
never slackin', man, zippin' in the black Range
Faster the red ghost, gettin' ghost wit' Pac, man
One time, know a got a to get that change
Leader of the gang, ROC, man

like T-Mac, ski mask, air it out
Gotta kill witnesses 'cause beard's stickin' out
Y'all don't want no witness shit, we hammers, man
Bullets by you, like Louisiana, man

But I gotta Tianna, man
So I keys, you can call me the Piano Man
Rain, sleet, hail, snow, man
dough, E, hydro, man

Know B. Sige in the lane
Gramps still prayin', on my nerves, man
Like, "Son you gotta get your soul
they blow them horns like Coltrane"

But still I cry of a hustler
Wipe tears from my mother, pull out for her brothers
That's above us, make beds for the
Tuck kids under covers, buy cribs for their

Shit, I'll probably be wylin' with their
Tell Ms. Robert, Enijah that I'm ridin' for her father
That's like my brother, like mother, different father
Any Dog, know I got 'em

An' we grind from the bottom
Just to it to the bottom, sold crack in the alleyways
Still gave back Marcy 'A Day'
Real make hood holidays

They ain't us but we still paid homage, man
Soul Food Sunday, lookin' Big Momma's, man
Tell the I never break my promise, man, man

Even what we do is wrong
Even though what we do is