Luyện nghe bài hát X-Caliba

[Chorus: Brotha Hung]
motherfucker kept sniffin for goods
Put the plastic in his mouth the back of his left
And you don't know but the killa gotta away
Before 4.30 in the I'm gone in the 6-Tre
Wit the windows up, have had gin in the cup
I'm swervin in the fast-lane gotta be spinnin em up
(X-caliba *echo*)

[Verse 1: Brotha Lynch
It all started when I the lid of the Olde E
And see E-A-R-double-O-E... ... ... (??)
Where my siccmade jacket at
'cause the only one I could use
I saw you at the war yeah when I lifted you out your shoes
It was the from the twenty gage(the twenty gage)
Felt like it could split your whide open wit it
Well you should when I'm round talkin that shit
Bout the nigga that's my
Should've the deal while you was givin out that info...
...mation, be of that Parry Mason
I hit em all up, creep em all up, kill em all up, fill em all up
Real deal, dig em' a ditch, then take grip
Put em in the back of the Cadillac show em how my Mini-Mac act
My tactics is
Leave the whole town smokey
like that band that steppin over dead
It's like that, and you wouldn't know it I'ma cool ass mufucca
Done delt witt a gang of
as I wait for the to heat up like a Hot Pepper
Gotta whole fulla Evian
and a trunck fulla FO no's and I can't let go
Catch you at yo slippin
Hoes trippin, rows rippin in the street after I heat my
off the hook with siccmade shit, straight made nigga
Fuck it, pass me the lace liquor to the face nigga
Off the Thunder and Kool-Aid and O 8
Easy on the liver make me kill a nigga
Split you head a pineapple
Die natural!
Five at your dome em home in a pinebox
I mean you out your sox
Pay to the Clock
Its like Half a niggas ass lay em in the grass take suitcase fulla cash and mash
16 in the clip crumble the urb roll a sliff bout to whatch you split in half
Bloody bath watter, infried nigga nuts and bones locaded at home I think him is Tyrone
But you know...

[Chorus: Brotha Lynch
That motherfucker kept sniffin for
Put the in his mouth the back of his neck left
And you don't know but the killa gotta away
Before 4.30 in the morning I'm gone in the
Wit the up, must have had gin in the cup
'cause I'm swervin in the fast-lane be spinnin em up
(X-caliba *echo*)

[Verse 2: Brotha Lynch
You can call me Sadam Huseain
Pump St Idees through my vein ass
You can see me on the southside of the
Man remembered by the ((opposet)) nigga that the city
Get ready for some pretty if you sicc Frank Nitty
Sucked from my momas tittie - instead of milk
Played murda muzicc in my tape deck - instead of
End up one of them motherfuckers
So fuck them hoes, they Grim
havin killin niggas like gots to go
up at 3 am - got high til seven
Jumped in my what you ma it headin throughwards heaven, whit my
50 sacc of shit, that'll make you get there
About 11:30 with T-shirt dirty,
I'm worthy strapped like James as ventured in faulty game
In a mainframe, that I n bucked away, then hit the plane
15 on a tripple beam scale nigga
acual contact from the strap that I hale

[Chorus: Brotha Hung]
That kept sniffin for goods
Put the plastic in his mouth the of his neck left
And you don't know nuthin but the killa gotta
Before 4.30 in the I'm gone in the 6-Tre
Wit the windows up, must had gin in the cup
'cause I'm swervin in the fast-lane gotta be em up
(X-caliba *echo*)

[Verse 3: Brotha Lynch
They got this twisted up
And from the sound of the barrle I got hella runnin up
What I do about these fuckin fleas?
Give em all want and put they seeds in they weed
Figga a way out this I know you got me in file
But I got you on scanner so plan way (anotha way)
me it was (?Coda steady?)
But I catch you like pimpin
and shake bankin (?Trail Leonard?)
Hit your mind workin these
tripp time get's deepa as you meat the Grim
in the form of a man double M 24 5 got brains leaking I'm peakin
That's why these wanna rip keep me
I'm rollin and what you ma want call it
witta .45 in my and I'm a young alcoholic
Like P-Folks I had to it happen
Sacramentos most wanted I gotta keep packin, 'cause of
My favorite just go four years
And when his little brotha he showed me no tears
point is shit get deep as the ocean
Take a niggas blood and rub it on like lotion
It was once apon a time a long time ago
I was sticken 9 milis in a pussy
Get of the Ol 8 old moe then i gotta go to a spot
when they don't know I'm the leath given up my info

[Chorus: Lynch Hung]
motherfucker kept sniffin for goods
Put the plastic in his mouth the back of his left
And you know nuthin but the killa gotta away
Before 4.30 in the morning I'm in the 6-Tre
Wit the up, must have had gin in the cup
'cause I'm swervin in the gotta be spinnin em up
(X-caliba *echo*)