Luyện nghe bài hát X-Caliba

[Chorus: Brotha Lynch
That motherfucker kept for goods
Put the plastic in his mouth the of his neck 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 up, must have had gin in the cup
'cause I'm swervin in the fast-lane be spinnin em up
(X-caliba *echo*)

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

Brotha Lynch Hung]
That motherfucker sniffin for goods
Put the plastic in his mouth the of his neck left
And you don't know nuthin but the gotta away
Before 4.30 in the morning I'm gone in the
Wit the windows up, have had gin in the cup
'cause I'm swervin in the gotta be spinnin em up
(X-caliba *echo*)

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

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

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

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